the direct line of route which the
actors in such a tragedy must take.

I spent much of my time on Cathcart's Hill, watching, with a curiosity
and excitement which became intense, the progress of the terrible
bombardment. Now and then a shell would fall among the crowd of
on-lookers which covered the hill; but it never disturbed us, so keen
and feverish and so deadened to danger had the excitement and
expectation made us.

In the midst of the bombardment took place the important ceremony of
distributing the Order of the Bath to those selected for that honour.
I contrived to witness this ceremony very pleasantly; and although it
cost me a day, I considered that I had fairly earned the pleasure. I
was anxious to have some personal share in the affair, so I made, and
forwarded to head-quarters, a cake which Gunter might have been at
some loss to manufacture with the materials at my command, and which I
adorned gaily with banners, flags, etc. I received great kindness from
the officials at the ceremony, and from the officers--some of
rank--who recognised me; indeed, I held quite a little _levee_ around
my chair.

Well, a few days after this ceremony, I thought the end of the world,
instead of the war, was at hand, when every battery opened and poured
a perfect hail of shot and shell upon the beautiful city which I had
left the night before sleeping so calm and peaceful beneath the stars.
The firing began at early dawn, and was fearful. Sleep was impossible;
so I arose, and set out for my old station on Cathcart's Hill. And
here, with refreshments for the anxious lookers-on, I spent most of my
time, right glad of any excuse to witness the last scene of the siege.
It was from this spot that I saw fire after fire break out in
Sebastopol, and watched all night the beautiful yet terrible effect of
a great ship blazing in the harbour, and lighting up the adjoining
country for miles.

The weather changed, as it often did in the Crimea, most capriciously;
and the morning of the memorable 8th of September broke cold and
wintry. The same little bird which had let me into so many secrets,
also gave me a hint of what this day was pregnant with; and very early
in the morning I was on horseback, with my bandages and refreshments,
ready to repeat the work of the 18th of June last. A line of sentries
forbade all strangers passing through without orders, even to
Cathcart's Hill; but once more I found that my reputation served as a
pe