As if this was a signal, the sound of a bugle came from the Agency—a bugle which, though she had been warned to expect it, made Eveleen shrink and shiver in her shelter, for it sounded the Retreat. Like a reply to it came a burst of heavy firing, which was so alarming that she was thankful when Captain Franks shouted down to her, “Only covering the retreat on the office, ma’am!” Presently he added, “They’re marching down from the water-gate now. Soon have ’em all safe on board!” Almost as he spoke the noise of rumbling and clanking began again, and he was black in the face before he could make her hear. “They’ve found out how we’ve diddled ’em. S’pose they’ll bring the guns round this way now.”
Before he had finished, Eveleen had pushed down part of her barricade and climbed over the rest, and was running up the ladder to his side. In ordinary circumstances he would have felt bound to rebuke her, but he was too busy watching the last stages of the retreat—the troops arriving section by section at the water-gate and marching down the path, and last of all, the defenders of the office dropping from the back windows and covering the rear as skirmishers. Even now the enemy hesitated to press them closely, and one or two round shot from theAsteroidquite dispelled any thought of interfering with the march across the sandbanks; but the rumbling and clanking was coming closer again, and Captain Franks hailed Colonel Bayard with some anxiety.
“Get on board as quick as you can, sir, if you please! There ain’t no time for being solemn. We’ve got the flat to pick up yet, and those guns will have the range in a minute or two.Nebula, ahoy! Where do you think you’re coming to?” for the smaller steamer had left her now useless station opposite the nullah, and was forging up towards theAsteroid. Captain Warner indicated by a thumb Brian on the bridge beside him.
“Why, to help in the fight, of course!” shouted that young man brightly. “We’ve got a gun too, have we not?”
“Yes, but you ain’t going to use it,” returned Captain Franks, losing all sight of the fact that military authority was now paramount. “Cap’en Warner”—they were now so close that he had not even to use his speaking-trumpet—“you know that wood-pile you passed three miles up? If the enemy think of that, we’re gone geese! Full steam ahead and stand by to protect it. If there’s nobody there, you get on board every stick you can carry—enough for us as well as yourselves.”
“Don’t go, captain,” said Brian encouragingly. “He’s trying to do you out of the fight. Sure I’ll stand by you.”
“You’ll be coming on board here in irons as a mutineer in another two minutes, young gentleman,” returned Captain Franks savagely. “Cap’en Warner, who’s senior skipper of this flotilla? You have your orders.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’en Franks!” responded Captain Warner peaceably. “You coming with us, sir?”
“Not a bit of it!” said Brian, and jumped from one ship to the other as theNebuladrew away. He landed neatly on the paddle-box, but his orderly, following as in duty bound, fell into the water, and had to be rescued with ropes by the Irish soldiers, who were enjoying themselves hugely. Hauling him up on deck meant displacing the bulwark of boxes, which brought Captain Franks down from the bridge in wrath to insist upon its being put back instantly, in which he was backed by Captain Montgomery as soon as he understood what had to be done next. The flat-bottomed boat containing the horses drew considerably less water than the steamer, and lay farther up the little creek in the sand, so that theAsteroidhad to back towards her for the tow-rope to be attached, and go ahead again to tow her out. While this manœuvre was going on, the twelve-pounder was necessarily out of action, and the enemy, waxing bold, made their appearance in the dry bed of the river, as though resolved to emulate the unique feat of the French in the Texel, and capture a vessel by means of cavalry. But the European soldiers, lying down behind the boxes, fired through the openings between them, and though the small remainder of precious ammunition was woefully diminished, the enemy’s courage soon evaporated.
The danger was not over yet, however. The steamer was laden almost to the water’s edge, and the flat overcrowded and difficult to move. Twice she ran aground, and once the tow-rope broke, while the resourceful enemy added to the confusion by opening fire from the three guns he had by this time mounted under the trees by the water-gate. Musketry was of no avail at such a distance, and theAsteroiddrew off again and brought her gun to bear, while the mate led a party of volunteers to the rescue of the flat. Three times was she brought a little way in triumph, and three times was the triumph checked, but at last she was got out into the stream, while theAsteroidkept down the fire of the prudent gunners at the gate. The course of the river took the steamer and her unwieldy consort nearer the shore again as they moved off, and they were assailed not only by the guns, but by musketry fire from matchlockmen posted in every patch of cover. Every one had to lie flat on the deck save Captain Franks, who seemed to bear a charmed life as he conned his ship through the winding channel. So obvious were the dangers of the navigation that the enemy on the bank kept up with the steamer for two miles, in the earnest hope of seeing her run aground, when they could have poured down on the sands and stormed her. But she failed to fulfil their expectation, and drew up at length level with theNebula, placidly taking in logs from a colossal stack on the opposite bank till she looked like a floating wood-pile. They anchored for the night side by side.
“And we never had a fight at all, at all!” said Brian.
“A pretty fair imitation of one,” said Richard. “You might let your sister please herself with the belief that she has seen a fight at last.”
“Seenit?” demanded Eveleen tragically. “Not the least taste of it did I see—except puffs of smoke. Would you call it seeing to be at the bottom of a well, and hear all sorts of things going on without knowing what they were?”
“Never mind, Mrs Ambrose,” said Montgomery. “You can always say you were present at a fight, anyhow. Not that the famous Arabits put up much of a fight, though.”
“No, indeed,” said Colonel Bayard sadly. “Why should they? They had no desire to fight. They were driven to it.”
“You wouldn’t say they’d not have been uncommon glad to kill us, if it could have been done without fighting, Colonel?” put in Brian slily. Colonel Bayard took him up sharply.
“Nothing of the kind. Why should they wish to kill us? It was a horrible mistake, and I could have prevented it all if the General had given me a free hand!”
Awakenedat sunrise by the festive sound of a steam-whistle, the fugitives from the Agency turned out to view the approach of a vessel identified by Captain Franks as theGalaxy. European soldiers clustered on her deck, and an officer waved greetings from the paddle-box. As the steamers neared one another, Eveleen recognised him as her old enemy Captain Crosse.
“Too late, I see!” he shouted lugubriously. “We start offek dumto rescue you, and you’ve done the rescuing yourselves!”
“Why, what have you got on board?” asked Colonel Bayard.
“Fifty men and ten thousand rounds of ammunition, colonel—and despatches. You were to hold on until the General came to relieve you.”
“To relieve me? Sir Henry is close at hand, then?”
“Three hours’ steaming—certainly no more. We should have met you sooner if we could have got on in the dark. Here’s the General’s letter.” He held it out, and Brian, making a long arm from theAsteroid’spaddle-box, took it from him.
“Thanks. Come to breakfast, won’t you?” said Colonel Bayard shortly, and withdrew a pace or two—there was no possible privacy in the crowded ship—to read the despatch. Presently he beckoned to Richard.
“He is bent on fighting,” he said with a sigh. “Look here—this was written after receiving mine sent after our return from the durbar, when I said I feared we might be besieged, and asked for supplies. You see he bids me point-blank break off negotiations, and make no further efforts for peace.”
“Possibly he thought you had done all that could be done in that line——” with great seriousness. “That was the letter in which you urged him to send away the army and come to Qadirabad himself—eh?”
“Yes, I urged it most strongly. And what does he do? Destroys the last hope of accommodation—orders me to leave the Agency at once and rejoin him, or if that’s impossible, put up a good defence and wait for him there.”
“But what else could he have done?” asked Richard curiously.
“Waited—shown some patience, some forbearance, instead of hurrying things like this. The old man knows nothing of Oriental ways—that’s the sole excuse for him.”
“I shall begin to think the General ain’t so far wrong in his estimate of old Indians, when he says they have got more Oriental than the Orientals themselves!” grumbled Richard to himself as Colonel Bayard turned away from him abruptly to greet Captain Crosse as he came on board.
“And I have a special message for Mrs Ambrose,” the visitor was saying. “Sir Henry was highly displeased when he heard where she was, and is sharpening his tongue to give her the scolding she deserves.”
“Sharpening his tongue, is it?” cried Eveleen in high scorn. “Sure it’s hardening his heart he means—or trying to.”
“Have it your own way, ma’am,” said Captain Crosse pacifically. “No doubt the General will argue it out with you, but I know better.”
That the General was quite ready to deal with every one as he or she deserved was made plain when the steamers arrived level with his camp. It lay some little distance from the river, but he had sent horses to be ready for them, and as Colonel Bayard and his party rode on ahead of the troops, an approaching cloud of dust showed that he was welcoming them in person. In his usual breakneck style he dashed up with his staff, and shook hands all round with his left hand, for his right arm was in a sling.
“Ah, Mrs Ambrose! anywhere else I should have been proud to see you. Glad you’re safe, Bayard. You have made a fine defence, sir—I shall have much pleasure in reporting it in the proper quarter. A little bit out of conceit with the Khans now—eh? Three times in one day you wrote to me they hadn’t an armed man in Qadirabad save their own servants, and two days later they were besieging you with seven or eight thousand troops!”
“You are better informed than I, General.” Colonel Bayard spoke somewhat stiffly. “How you have arrived at that exact figure——”
“Spies, man, spies! Not being glued to steamers, they came on while you were all snoozing sweetly in the night, though they had to skirt round to flank theshikargahs, which you must have passed in happy innocence that a whole army was concealed there. I was taking their lowest estimate. What do you make the numbers, then—eh?”
“Anything up to eighteen thousand men, General, from what we saw when they tried to harass us from the bank.”
“H’m. My information suggests more than that. By the seven thousand I meant those only who beset the Residency. And in a nasty resolute temper—eh? You believe that now?”
“For the moment, nothing more. Believe me, their heart ain’t in it. If you could have met their Highnesses face to face——”
“Heavens, man! if I had taken your advice, the army would still be three days’ march away at least, and my reinforcement could never have reached you in time.”
“A reinforcement without ammunition, General!”
“My orders were that they should have sixty rounds apiece, but they were in such a hurry to be off they never took ’em.”
“Ah, with that sixty rounds we could have held out till you came. You, General—not the army. Your presence would have removed all difficulties.”
“Yes, and my head from my shoulders—as I said when I got your letter. What! you won’t believe a word against your dear gentle Khans, even now? D’ye know anything of an unfortunate white man—an American, so they tell me—called Thomas, who commanded their artillery?”
“Why, yes, General. We owe him much gratitude——”
“Well, you’ll never have the chance of repaying him in this world. Faced with the order to fire on persons of his own colour, he refused, and they cut off his nose and ears, and killed him.”
“And ’twas his warning saved all our lives!” cried Eveleen wildly. “Oh, poor Tom Carthew, poor poor Tom! And that was the man”—she faced round suddenly on her husband—“you wanted to forbid me to speak to!”
“I suppose there’s no doubt, sir——?” asked Richard.
“None whatever, I fear. The spy hesitated to tell me—because, so Munshi said, he didn’t like to bring such news about a sahib. I told him to say the only thing it would make me angry to hear would be that the Sahib had stooped to dishonour, and I gave the spy ten rupees when he had revealed the sad yet glorious truth. Not much doubt there. A word with you, Ambrose, if you please.”
For once Colonel Bayard had no defence to offer of the Khans’ action, and he dropped behind with Eveleen, pretending, with his usual kindness, not to notice the tears she was unable to conceal, while Richard took his place beside Sir Harry. The old soldier was perturbed.
“Is Bayard wilfully blind, or is he mad?” he demanded wrathfully as they drew ahead. “I have been mistaken in the man. Nothing but massacre will open his eyes.”
“I think he has been trying to force himself to retain confidence in the Khans, sir; but surely his eyes must be opened now! Did you hear that the attack on the Agency was directed by Khair Husain Khan, who had offered the day before to bring his troops to protect us? I saw him plainly with my telescope, leading his army industriously from the rear.”
The General laughed—a short hard laugh. “Well, they have come to the end of their tricks and evasions now! At nine to-morrow morning I lead my gallant troops against ’em.”
“Have you stipulated with the Khans that they shall await your onslaught, General?”
Sir Harry laughed again. “I think they will—I trust they will. Were their numbers double the eighteen thousand Bayard gives ’em, I would still advance, but they may well consider eighteen thousand fairly matched against two. They are awaiting us at Mahighar. We march at dawn, and they won’t find us backward in keeping the appointment.”
“Do you propose to attack ’em in front, sir?”
“I do. Look at this: I had the choice of two roads. By marching inland I might have come on ’em from the rear and turned their right flank, penning ’em up with their backs to the river. But if my plans miscarried, I in my turn should run the risk of being dispersed and cut off in detail, since I should have nothing behind me but the desert. True, if successful, I might annihilate ’em, but I ain’t a lover of bloodshed, though Bayard believes me one. Whereas, coming at ’em straight in front, if I am beat back I retreat on the river, where are my steamers, and where I entrench myself while waiting for the reinforcements I have ordered down from Sahar. Why don’t I wait for ’em? you’ll say. Because I have enough men to beat the Khans with, and I won’t rob my troops of their glory by bringing in others to share it.”
“’Pon my honour, General”—Richard spoke with unwonted enthusiasm—“I believe you’ll find ’em answer your expectations.”
“I know I shall. There ain’t a regiment in Her Majesty’s Army I would rather have with me than my dear uproarious Irish boys—as tumultuous in peace as they are terrible in fight. But what I wished to ask you was about Mrs Ambrose. Do you prefer her to return on board theAsteroidwhen we march, or to take the chances of the battle with us?”
“That must be as you decide, General.”
“Nay, I beg of you to make the choice. In Spain no one would have felt the least surprise at her remaining with you, but we do things differently nowadays.”
“Honestly, sir, I should infinitely prefer to leave her in the charge of Mr Franks, but I can’t flatter myself she would remain there unless she chose.”
“Precisely. And to embark on adventures of her own selection in a country swarming with enemies might entail consequences that would load us with remorse for the rest of our days—and none more than myself. She shall accompany you and the force, but I will give her a little good advice first.”
“May I say, General, how deeply I deplore that Mrs Ambrose’s conduct should require to engage your attention at such a moment?”
“Nonsense, my good fellow! I have often thought you don’t half appreciate your good fortune in finding yourself linked to a lady happily endowed with perennial youth. Now don’t look for a nasty meaning when I intend a compliment of a sort, but do me the favour to find out whether Bayard has any more maggots in his brain.”
This meant that Eveleen became Sir Henry’s companion. She did so with a certain diffidence, for it had begun to dawn upon her that her presence was not precisely welcome. Possibly Captain Crosse had aided her to make the discovery by a muttered remark about charming ladies whowouldpoke their noses in where they weren’t wanted. He had said from the first that European women had no business in Khemistan, she might remember? She did remember, but would not flatter him by acknowledging it, nor take any notice now when he murmured what sounded like “something like a wigging!” The news of Tom Carthew’s death had subdued her a good deal, so that the severe glance Sir Harry turned upon her did not, as it would generally have done, pique her to fresh flightiness.
“And pray, ma’am, why did you force yourself into Colonel Bayard’s mission to Qadirabad?” he asked her.
She scorned the quibble that the Colonel had said he would welcome her presence. “Ah, now, Sir Harry, wouldn’t you have found Sahar dull if you’d been me?”
“Was that your sole reason, pray?”
“Not a bit of it. Ambrose wouldn’t take me with him to Sultankot, so I told him the next time I’d come without asking. And I did.”
“I see. That you might boast a cheap triumph over your husband, you chose to double—or at least to add very largely to my anxieties at this time?”
“Well now, to tell you the truth, I never thought of that!”
The confession was so naïve and unexpected that Sir Harry nearly spoiled the effect of his lecture by laughing. But he managed to preserve a proper severity of demeanour as he said, “Let me assure you I have been a prey to the most serious apprehensions as to your safety.”
“Indeed, then, I ought to be flattered that Sir Harry Lennox would think of me at all at such a time.”
She must have scented the unreality of his last remark! “I fear,” he said smoothly, “Mrs Ambrose would hardly be flattered did she realise the nature of my thoughts. But if you have no consideration for me, is there none due to my good friend your excellent husband?”
“And don’t I show my consideration by wanting to be with him wherever he goes? Who could take better care of him, if he got hurt, than his own wife?”
“Whom he would infinitely prefer to know in safety at Sahar! Have some compassion on the poor fellow’s mind, ma’am—don’t keep it all for his body. Believe me, you have no right to inflict these additional anxieties on persons who have enough to think of already. You have had a tolerable example, surely, in the fate of the unfortunate man Thomas?”
“But sure it was for my sake he brought the warning, and saved all our lives!” cried Eveleen indignantly.
“Possibly, though some inkling of what was in hand would probably have reached Bayard in any case. But don’t it occur to you that the reason the test was proposed to the unhappy man was that his errand had been divined, and he was given the choice of proving his fidelity to his employers or expiating what they would consider his treachery?”
“Do you tell me he lost his own life by saving ours?”
“In consequence of saving them, as far as I see. The honour of your friendship, ma’am, ain’t without its penalties. Shocking rude old fellow, ain’t I?” as she gazed at him incredulously. “Believe me, I would withdraw that remark if I could, but what does your own conscience say about it?”
“It’s cruel y’are!” wept Eveleen. “When you know I would die for my friends!”
“Pardon me,” drily—“they die for you, you mean.”
“Ah, cruel, cruel! As if I’d ever, ever go where I wasn’t wanted again!”
“Come! now I have hopes of you. Does that mean that if I can find a safe place for you among the baggage to-morrow, you pledge your word to stay where you are put and do what you are bid?”
“Oh, and I’ll see the battle?” joyfully.
“Impossible to say, but I should think it unlikely. Will you do absolutely what you are told—whether you find yourself in a good place for seeing or not?”
“I will, I will! and I’ll be grateful to y’all my days.”
“May they be many!” Sir Harry’s tone was still dry. “If you don’t keep your word they won’t be—that’s all.”
“Ah, then, would y’have the heart to have me shot?”
“Quite unnecessary. The enemy will see to that if you go running about the country—or our own camp-followers, who are the choicest mob of rascals I ever saw. I know they’re capable of any enormity, because they treat their dumb beasts so abominably. I owe this to one of ’em”—he indicated his bandaged right hand.
“Why, did y’interpose to prevent a blow and receive it yourself, Sir Harry?” with interest.
“Not precisely. A scoundrel was knocking his poor camel about, and my fist found its way to his forehead. The fellow had a head like a rock! It was my hand that was smashed; he remained unhurt. Munshi tells me that the rascals have a game of running at one another with their heads down, butting like rams, and I believe it—save that the sport must be too harmless to be profitable.”
“I’m glad ’twas for a camel you did it,” said Eveleen. “Anybody would defend a horse, but y’are the only one that’s really fond of camels, don’t you know?”
Sir Henry looked at her suspiciously, and took advantage of circumstances to change the subject with finality. “Here we are, you see. We have managed to find a tent for you, but furniture was beyond us. I call it the one advantage of Indian travelling, that each visitor brings his own four-poster along with him.”
He dismounted with amazing agility, and came to help Eveleen from her saddle, but was interrupted by Colonel Bayard.
“Ambrose has been telling me your plans, General, and I can’t say how glad I am to find you share my view that it ain’t bloodshed, but a moral effect, that’s called for. May I be permitted to do my part? Lend me a couple of hundred Europeans and the steamers, and give me one more day, and we will fire theshikargahsand drive the game towards you. No Orientals can stand being taken in flank, and where they would fight desperately if assailed in front, it would not surprise me did they surrender without fighting at all.”
“H’m!” grunted Sir Harry. “Presently, presently! We don’t hold councils of war in public, my good fellow. But Europeans? Certainly not. I have but four hundred in my whole army, and each man is worth his weight in diamonds to me. And no more delay—not an hour! You must be back in time. Can’t put off the battle to suit you. Sorry to keep you waiting, ma’am.”
The day wore itself away slowly enough. Eveleen was tired after the excitements of the last forty-eight hours, but she found it difficult to rest. It was the cold weather, but at midday the heat made a tent a very inadequate shelter, and the many sounds of a camp suggested such interesting things which might be happening that she was for ever jumping up to look out. Richard and Brian were busy outside the General’s little tent close by. It was pitched under a rather inadequate tree, in the shade of which the office work was necessarily done, since it could not possibly have been accomplished inside. Messengers came and went, officers arrived with reports of various kinds, deputations of men with representations to make, offenders to receive admonition—and the General dealt with them in patriarchal style. Late in the afternoon Colonel Bayard and his two hundred Native Infantry left for the steamers, the officers not disguising their dissatisfaction at the possibility of missing the battle. At sunset there was a far more picturesque spectacle, when the Khemistan Horse rode out to reconnoitre from the land side the hunting-forest in which the enemy was supposed to be concealed, and thus distract their attention from Colonel Bayard’s operations by water. The camp woke up as the sun went down. Fires were lighted, and the men who had grumbled at the heat in their tents all day came out gladly to enjoy the warmth. Sitting round the fires, they watched their meal cooking, and exulted in the thought of the morrow. The British Army groused in those days as in these, but thenil admiraripose had not yet become fashionable—or if it had, it had passed by these Irish lads and left them unscathed. The General had a wood fire in front of his tent like the rest, and its smoke served as a much-needed deterrent from the attentions of the mosquitoes. He and Eveleen and his staff sat on small boxes round a large box for a table, and when the resources of his two canteens were exhausted, shared tumblers and even plates. Sir Henry was in a reminiscent mood. He talked about his parents—his father a giant both in mind and body, who would have been the greatest General of the age had a bat-like Government but taken advantage of his powers; his mother at once the best and the most beautiful woman of her time. Then he turned to his brothers, of whom there were several, each remarkable in his particular sphere, but none to compare with the two who were soldiers like himself, and like him, had fought and bled in the Peninsula. They had attained a certain measure of recognition, but nothing to what they should have received had they been treated fairly: there was a cross-grained fate pursuing every Lennox which robbed him of the due reward of his deeds. In all this he called upon his nephew—son to one of the ill-used soldiers—for confirmation, which was dutifully given. But when the General’s attention was distracted for a moment by the arrival of a message, Frederick Lennox spoke in a hollow whisper to Eveleen.
“It’s all quite true, and yet there ain’t a word of it true! What’s wrong with us Lennoxes is that we are all of us such queer cross-grained fellows that we make our own enemies.”
Eveleen was greatly interested, for the Lennox temperament seemed to have an affinity with her own—as Richard had once hinted,—and she would fain have pursued the subject, but the General’s eye was upon them again. The message had apparently recalled him from the past to the present.
“They tell me now that if the Khans bring up all their forces, they will put sixty thousand Arabits into the field against us to-morrow,” he said. “Well, be they sixty or a hundred thousand, I’ll fight ’em! It shall be do or die. No Ethiopian muddle for me! I would never show my face again. Well, Heaven grant me to be worthy of my wife and girls, and not disgrace ’em!”
“Sure y’are the first ever mentioned disgrace in the same breath with yourself, Sir Harry,” said Eveleen earnestly. He glowered at her.
“Young troops—never saw a fight before, and a leader with no experience of high command! The Duke’s battles were ended when he was ten years younger than I—Napoleon’s the same. Yet there’s a kind of elation in the delightful anxiety of leading an army—and such an army—against a force twenty times its number. How many proud Arabits will have bit the dust by this hour to-morrow! But who am I, to dare to rejoice in the prospect of taking life, instead of lamenting the grievous necessity? At least I have done my utmost to avoid bloodshed—even Bayard admits it.” He had been talking as if to himself, but his tone changed suddenly. “Well, well; a bit more writing and a visit to the outposts, then three hours’ sleep, for I had none last night—some foolish report or other coming in all night long. Get what rest you can, Mrs Ambrose, and you, gentlemen. We march at four.”
The night felt very short to Eveleen, though she must have had at least two hours’ more sleep than the General. It was in that most uncomfortable hour before dawn that she was waked, and it seemed impossible ever to get ready in the cold and the confined space and by the light of a dimly burning lantern. But she was outside at last, in a chill grey light in which figures moved like shadows at first, but gradually became more distinct. Richard brought her a cup of coffee, which was hot and sweet and strong—the very stimulant she needed,—and Brian presented her with a chunk of meat balanced on a biscuit, which required all her attention to get it conveyed safely to her mouth. When it was disposed of, she had leisure to look about. The camp was disappearing amid cracks and creaks; soldiers, servants, camp-followers were running about like ants in a threatened ant-hill. The General, in a sheepskin coat which combined with his spectacles to give him the look of a philosopher turned bandit, was receiving a report from a dark-faced officer with a bushy black beard—Captain Keeling of the Khemistan Horse,—which seemed to make him very angry.
“No sign of the enemy in theshikargahs? Then where on earth have they got to? If their hearts have failed ’em again, I’ll chase ’em to the gate of Qadirabad and out at t’other end! Then Bayard’s expedition will be no use, and I can’t get at him! I wish I had never let him go—robbing me of two hundred of my best sepoys and three invaluable officers. Well, many thanks for the information, Keeling. You are advanced guard now, you know. I needn’t tell you to keep a sharp look-out for the rascals, with all these woods and nullahs about.”
Captain Keeling saluted and rode away, and somehow or other, from a mob falling aimlessly over each other’s feet, the army sorted itself out and into column of route, and the march began. The cavalry ahead and on the flanks may have been able to see where they were going, but the dust they stirred up made a gritty fog in which the infantry toiled along blindly. It was full daylight now, and the sun was growing hot. The General had discarded his woolly coat and carried it before him on the saddle, and Eveleen threw back the veil she had worn to protect her face from the dust, that she might at least be able to breathe. In a brief halt about seven o’clock, Sir Henry conferred with Captain Keeling again, and the Khemistan Horse trotted off briskly on another reconnaissance, their place in the van being taken by a Bengal Cavalry regiment. The army had not long got into motion again before a gun was heard in front, then a regular fusillade, which was repeated at brief intervals.
“He’s found ’em this time!” chuckled Sir Henry, and presently a sowar, his horse in a lather, galloped back and presented a note. The General read it with visible pleasure.
“The Arabits have kept the appointment right enough, gentlemen,” he said to his staff. “They are drawn up behind Mahighar—the very place I fixed on,—a strong position, so Keeling says, with both flanks protected byshikargahsand the front by a deep dry watercourse. He estimates them at twenty thousand at least, with fifteen guns. The Khans are in camp behind a fortified village on their right. He remains under fire to reconnoitre more closely, which will give us time for our part of the business.”
A brief order sent Brian back with the sowar, to bring the latest news, and orderlies were despatched down the column to hurry the loiterers and prevent straggling. Stewart rode ahead with the Engineer officers, who knew exactly what they had to do, and presently the General and his companions arrived at a clump of scraggy trees, round which the ground was being neatly marked out with flags.
“Headquarters,” said Sir Henry laconically. “Ambrose, I shan’t want you at present. You had better find out a nice sheltered place for Mrs Ambrose here on the right somewhere. You won’t be disturbed. That’s where the hospital tents will be, and there are no invalids to-day—as yet. Dare say he don’t want to do anything of the kind,” he added, more audibly than he intended, to Brian; “but hang it! a man does owe some duty to his wife.”
Absurdly embarrassed, and not a little angry, Richard obeyed, and Eveleen, lifted from her saddle, led the way into the grateful shade of the little wood. The air was full of the thunder of the guns, and her husband had to shout when he warned her of a projecting root that might have made her trip. They paused in sight of the tents in course of erection, where the surgeons—with what looked like, but doubtless was not, unholy joy—were setting out in order objects of gruesome aspect, and Eveleen turned with a smile.
“How cross y’are, Ambrose! Y’ought be giving me all sorts of farewell messages, don’t you know?”
“I don’t know that there’s much to tell you,” he said gruffly. “Stay near your tent, and do what you are told. If—if things go wrong, old Abdul Qaiyam will take care of you, and get you away if it can be done. You promise to do exactly as he says?”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d consider it dignified to take orders from the bearer, but if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll do it by all means.”
“And—if the worst comes to the worst, you know what to do? You have a pistol?”
“I have that. Sure it’s a pleasure to find you think me capable of doing the proper thing sometimes—if it’s only once in the world.”
“You appear to be in excellent spirits. I congratulate you.”
“Yes, and itisappearance, and nothing else——” furiously. “D’ y’ask me why? Because if I didn’t I’dhowl—there! and how would you like that?”
Horribly ashamed, and even more embarrassed than before, Richard felt the absolute necessity of making some acknowledgment, and forced a “Thank you!” from his reluctant lips. Reading rather than hearing it, Eveleen laughed with the tears in her eyes.
“Y’are so English, Ambrose! But don’t let us tease one another any more at all. I’ll be quite happy making a garland to crown you with when you come back victorious. And you’ll be happy knowing I’m quite safe.”
“I don’t know,” he said dubiously. “This spot is shockingly exposed—no defence of any kind—— Oh, look there! I might have known Sir Henry would have some plan of his own. This is what they do at the Cape in repelling Kaffir attacks—but there they have waggons for their breastwork. D’ye see—between those two tents—the camels kneeling with their heads outwards, and the baggage piled up between ’em, to make a barricade to fire over? A regular fortification! The Arabits will think twice before they try to spread panic among our camp-followers now—all herded inside, and a strong guard—though it reduces our numbers——”
“Never mind! The fewer the greater honour,” said Eveleen, and after a time they walked back towards the spot designated as headquarters, where Sir Henry and the staff were just preparing to mount. A cloud of dust to the right showed where the artillery was taking up its position, while on the left the Bengal Cavalry were moving off to support the Khemistan Horse. In front, drawn up in serried ranks, as if on parade, was the infantry—the Queen’s —th in the post of honour next to the guns.
“Hanged if I’d let my enemy take up his position as calmly as at a review, if I was an Arabit commander,” said the General. “I wonder if they have anything in the watercourse that Keeling did not see—any sort of trap. We shall soon find out for ourselves.”
“A frontal attack, General?” asked Richard.
“Necessarily. Keeling sends word that he tried to ride round their left, but the jungle is full of nullahs, all scarped, and matchlockmen in the trees. I myself reconnoitred to the right just now with the Bengalis, and it’s equally bad there—thick woods on either bank of the watercourse, which is deep in wet mud. No matchlockmen showed their noses, but that’s their cunning. They must be there, they would be fools if they didn’t hold thatshikargah, and worse fools if they told me they were doing it. We caught sight of a smoke in the distance, so Bayard has done his work, though miles away from the enemy’s position. I wish I had that detachment back, but that’s crying over spilt milk. Good-bye, Mrs Ambrose; give us your prayers.”
He bowed from his saddle to shake hands, and Eveleen looked up at him with brimming eyes. “God bring you safe through, Sir Harry—and you, my boy Brian and you——” she could not utter her husband’s name, but gave her hand to each man as he bent towards her in passing. By the cloud of dust that followed their movements she could see that Sir Harry was taking up his position at the head of his array, and the line moved off, rather to the right, while the firing continued on the left. Had the baggage-guard occupied a hill of any sort, it might have been possible to follow the fortunes of the fight; but the plain was perfectly flat, and there was not even a house-roof to mount. Eveleen wandered about with a white face, listening to the cannonade, and wondering, whenever a momentary pause came, what terrible meaning it might bear. The surgeons and their native assistants were fidgeting in and out of the hospital tents, having few preparations to make compared with their successors of to-day, and they also were listening. At last the sound of the enemy’s fire was drowned by a nearer roar—more sustained and regular.
“D’ye hear that, ma’am?” cried the nearest doctor, waving an unrolled bandage about his head like a conjuror. “That’s blessed old Brown Bess. We’ve got into touch with ’em! Now we shall soon have plenty to do. There are our guns now!”
It was thrilling, but not enlightening. The rival roars continued, now one predominating, now the other, then both uniting in a crash that made the earth shake; but there was nothing to be seen but dust below and distant smoke mounting into the blue sky above. Then curious little forms appeared on the edge of the dust-cloud, looking like some new kind of quadruped, and resolved themselves into doolies, each carried by two brown men, running and panting as if in terror, but bringing in their burdens faithfully through the gap left in the barricade, and depositing them at the hospital tents.
“Better go round the other side of thetope, ma’am,” said the surgeon, advancing with dreadful determination.
“Perhaps I could help?” suggested Eveleen half-heartedly.
“No, no. We don’t want ladies mixing themselves up in this sort of work,” blissfully unconscious of the change a mere dozen of years was to bring forth, and Eveleen retired to the shelter of her tent, and stopped her ears from the sounds she thought she heard. Then the surgeon hurried across to her.
“Fellow here, Mrs Ambrose—Kenton of the N.I.—pretty bad—if you would sit by him and talk, or let him talk. We shall have to amputate presently, but our hands are full just now, and he’s a nervous sort of chap. If you can get him to talk to you, it’ll take his mind off it.”
Horribly scared, but ashamed to refuse, Eveleen went back with him, to find the wounded man—boy rather, for he must have been younger than Brian—laid in the shade of the trees. His face was white and drawn, but over his body, at which Eveleen glanced fearfully, a covering had been thrown. The doctor broke a branch from the nearest tree and put it into her hand.
“That will keep the flies off, at any rate. And if he’s thirsty, you can give him some water. Now please talk!”—in an urgent whisper, as he went off.
It seemed horrible to disturb any one who was in such pain, but as Eveleen sat down beside the boy she managed to say, “Don’t answer if it hurts you too much, but just tell me—we are winning?”
“Of course!” The closed eyes opened with an effort, and met hers indignantly. “With such a commander, and such men, how could we possibly lose?”
“Sure y’are a boy after the General’s own heart!” said Eveleen approvingly. Then, catching the doctor’s nod of encouragement as he disappeared round a tent, she went on. “But tell me now, why did Sir Harry turn to the right, when the poor Khemistan Horse had been under fire so long on the left?”
“Because the matchlock-fire from the village was too heavy. Keeling’s men were in skirmishing order, lying down behind their horses, and couldn’t take much harm, but to lead a column of infantry into it would have been destruction. But tell you what”—he spoke vivaciously, though in a thin weak voice, and she had grown sufficiently accustomed to the noise of the battle to be able to hear—“we very nearly caught it just as hot on the right, and if the enemy commander knew his business we should have done. Thatshikargahthere, which Sir Henry reconnoitred with the Bengalis without seeing a soul, has a wall in front of it, and in the wall was a gap—just broken by accident, as you might say. But as we came near, there was a chap sitting astride upon the wall, near the gap, who fired at the General, and missed. Then another matchlock was handed up to him, and another, but he missed every time, and one of our men toppled him off the wall with a bullet. The General stood up in his stirrups and looked at the place with his telescope, and then dismounted and went quite close. Then he told Captain Crosse, of my regiment, to take his company just inside the gap and hold it at all costs. And he is holding it, I tell you! We heard the firing break out in the wood as we marched on. They had prepared an ambush there to fall upon our flank, do you see? and if they’d had the sense to cut loopholes, or throw up a banquette for firing over the wall, they might have swept us all away—if they hadn’t betrayed themselves by setting their sharpshooter to pick off the General.”
“And then? if y’are not too tired,” said Eveleen quickly.
“Tired? It helps me to forget, you see. They were firing at us from the opposite bank of the dry river as we got closer, but we held our fire till we were not more than a hundred yards off. We marched on up to the very bank, and then—give you my word, we did get a start! Looking down into the bed of the stream was like looking into a sea of turbaned heads, with rolling eyes and grinning teeth, and swords and shields; and they all came at us with a frightful yell. They had been crouching behind the bank to surprise us—and they did. We went at it ding-dong, musket and matchlock and pistol, and bayonet and shield and tulwar, they rushing up the bank in waves and rolling us back, and then our men rallying and pouring in a volley that checked ’em a bit. And the General riding up and down between, holloing us on! Didn’t you hear ’em cheer him when he rallied the Queen’s —th? I should have thought it could have been heard at Qadirabad! And then I went down, and he sent an orderly to get a doolie, and Paddy the aide—oh, I beg your pardon; that’s your brother, ain’t it?—helped to get me into it, and that’s all I know. But tell me, what time is it?”
“It must be quite noon, I think,” said Eveleen.
“Noon? and we went into it at nine! Has the cavalry charged yet, do you know?”
“The whole army might have charged, but we wouldn’t know. There is not a thing to be seen for dust.”
“Believe me, you’d know if the Bengalis charged. The ground would shake—quite a different feeling from the rumble the guns make. Oh, why, why ain’t they charging the village? That was what the General sent ’em to support the Khemistan Horse for—we all knew it—to make a diversion if he was hard pressed. He can’t keep it up if they don’t—there’s a hundred Arabits to every man of ours. We shall be cut to pieces—— No, no—listen; what’s that?”
He tried to start up, but Eveleen held him down gently. “I hear, I hear!” she cried, almost as excited as himself. “A different sound entirely—like rolling thunder! I feel it more than I hear. Oh, will it, will it be the charge?”
“It must be a charge, but is it their cavalry or ours? No, help me to turn my head, please——” and with a great effort he got his ear near the ground. “Itisours—the noise is going away from us. This is victory, then.”
For a few minutes the din of firing broke out with such force as to drown all other sounds. Then it became broken and irregular, then seemed to pass away altogether to the right. Neither Eveleen nor the wounded boy could say a word. With parted lips and wildly beating hearts they stared at one another, afraid to move lest they should lose some pregnant sound as the minutes rolled on. Then they both became aware that the sound of the firing had ceased. From far, far in the distance came a thin flat cheer, then another, then a third.
“We’ve won!” said young Kenton. “I don’t mind now,” and fainted.
“Weare honoured, Mrs Ambrose,” said Sir Harry, with his most courtly bow, as Eveleen hurried out of her tent—as quickly as its extreme smallness would allow—to receive the dusty and grimy company that rode up. The baggage and hospitals had moved on in the wake of the tide of battle, and the night’s bivouac was on the other side of the watercourse which had served the enemy as a trench—close to the stretch of ground on which the Khans and their army had been encamped the night before. “Valour would lose half its reward without the approbation of the fair.”
“Ah then, Sir Harry, you have spoilt my compliment that I was going to offer! What’s the use of my telling you y’are brave, when y’have said it about yourselves already?”
“But how could we be other than brave when we had Mrs Ambrose to fight for?” asked the General gallantly.
“Cot, Evie!” cried Brian. “Acknowledge us all as heroes now, or confess your smiles have lost their power.”
“Where’s that wreath of mine?” demanded Richard—a little above himself, like the rest, after this wonderful day.
“Here!” said Eveleen unexpectedly, bringing it out from behind her, but he was equal to the occasion.
“Present it to the General, then, pray. We may all be heroes, as your brother says, but there would have been no victory without him.”
“Will y’accept it, Sir Harry?” Eveleen held up the wreath.
“May it be conferred upon Black Prince instead? At one moment I confess I was on the point of saving my valuable life by sacrificing his, poor beast! so it’s fitting he should have some reward, especially since poor Kenton—— But how is my young hero?”
“Quite happy once we heard the soldiers cheering for the victory——” Eveleen was arranging the wreath over the charger’s ears. “They took his arm off soon after that, and I have not seen him since, but the surgeon says he will do well. Then was it he or Black Prince saved your life, Sir Harry?”
“Young Kenton, as it happened. A big strapping fellow of an Arabit came over the bank, saw me riding alone in front of the line, and made straight for me. With these broken fingers, I was powerless to defend myself, but I got half the reins into that hand, with frightful agony, intending as he cut at me to give Black Prince’s head a chuck that would make the poor animal the recipient of the blow instead of me. But Kenton ran forward and took the cut on his arm, thrusting at the Arabit, who warded it off with his shield, and would have cut at us again, had not a soldier come up in time with his bayonet. So you see I have the three of ’em to thank.”
“I’m jealous,” said Eveleen discontentedly. “What were these two men of mine doing, Sir Harry?”
“Staying where they were told, ma’am, and carrying messages when they were required. D’ye think I wanted the whole staff trotting up and down with me to draw the enemy’s fire, and riding down our own men when they turned? I tell you there was no room for parade manœuvres of that sort. Our line was never more than three yards from the enemy’s—sometimes only one. So don’t scold these good fellows when they deserve to be praised rather. We shall meet at dinner, gentlemen.”
He bowed again to her as he hobbled into his little shabby tent, and the staff separated hastily, to make such improvements in their appearance as the scanty materials at hand permitted, for the General’s strict regulations as to baggage were still rigorously enforced. Once more the party sat on boxes, with two larger boxes put together for a table, and as always when Sir Harry was on active service, the only drink was water. Bottled beer—which every European on the Bombay side regarded as a necessary of life,—wine, and spirits were sternly excluded from his campaigning requisites, as also smoking materials of all kinds. But the meal was cheerful, even hilarious, and every one had something to tell of the events of the day.
“What a battle!” said Sir Harry at last. “Three mortal hours of helter-skelter fighting—musket against tulwar and shield,—and the two lines within arm’s reach of one another the whole time. I saw our soldiers loading in their haste without using the ramrod at all, merely knocking the butt of the piece on the ground, and coolly changing blunted flints while presenting the bayonet at the enemy. Were there ever such troops?”
“Was there ever such a commander, General?” said Brian, in the easy way in which an Irishman can pay a compliment without appearing fulsome. “The troops would have broke and run time and again without you to rally ’em. They would have done nothing without you.” The rest murmured hearty assent.
“So the generous honest fellows testified when they gave me that cheer in the midst of the battle,” said Sir Harry, with deep emotion. “Believe me, gentlemen, I accepted it as the most moving tribute ever paid to a British commander. But I had no choice. From the moment I knew of the numbers of the enemy, and perceived his dispositions, I saw I must lead my soldiers against him before they were aware of his masses, and remain myself in the forefront of the fight throughout. A merciful Providence has justified my prevision.”
“But did you guess they had the river-bed filled with troops, Sir Harry?” asked Eveleen eagerly. “Sure you said——”
Sir Harry looked at her with humorous apology. “I did, ma’am—but I knew what I must find unless the Arabit commander were a consummate fool. He ain’t that, as his posting the ambush in the wood on our right showed, but inexperience—or contempt of his foe”—a laugh went round—“lost him the results he ought to have gained. That opening in the wall should have been masked, and some sort of platform devised from which to fire. As it was, the breach served me as a warning that troops were in the wood ready to attack us in flank, and when I looked inside and saw that by no possibility could they line the wall with matchlockmen and mow us down, I had but to send the heroic Crosse and his company to stop that hole as a cork stops a bottle, and the ambush was rendered nugatory—though my brave Leonidas perished in holding the gap. Yes”—as Eveleen started,—“poor Crosse has fallen, with half his men. We could send them no assistance once we ourselves were engaged, even had we had any to send. Only by breaching the wall with cannon when we reached the bank were we able to relieve the hard-pressed remnant.”
“Poor Crosse saved the army, General,” said Richard gruffly.
“Indeed you are right. The troops we had in Spain would have gone over the bank and through the enemy up t’other side. But these young soldiers—seeing a riverful of such ugly customers, jumping up at ’em with nasty shining swords like so many Jack-in-the-boxes—they were astonished, they hesitated. Had a flank attack come at the same moment, they must have broke. But as it was, they only needed rallying.”
“‘Only,’ General!” said Captain Stewart. “A good many times over.”
“True, but what other troops would have responded as they did? But it should not have been necessary. Upon my soul, gentlemen”—forgetting prudence in his warmth—“if Crosse saved the army, Welborne came within an ace of destroying it. That charge was due an hour before.”
“Ah, we were listening for it—Mr Kenton and I!” cried Eveleen. “‘Why won’t they charge?’ says he, over and over again, and at last it came. But why not before, Sir Harry?”
“Because Welborne ‘thought it right to wait for definite orders——’” the General mimicked the intonation ferociously. “I posted him there with orders to charge the village at all costs if he saw me hard pressed—and he couldn’t see; he must wait to be told. That gallant fellow Keeling was straining at the leash, sending insulting messages to Welborne to try and move him—at last preparing to charge the place with the Khemistan Horse alone, which must have meant their annihilation, when happily the orders arrived which I had snatched a moment in the thickest press of the battle to send, wondering what in the world had taken the cavalry. And then they did go! Straight at the village, contemptuous of the bullets that rained upon ’em, over the nullahs, heedless of emptied saddles, through the guns, sabring the gunners, then through the camp of the Khans, driving its occupants before ’em in headlong flight! Then at last our stubborn antagonists in the watercourse, seeing their rear menaced, gave ground slowly and sullenly, yielding to us reluctantly the blood-stained trench for which we had so long contended. Mrs Ambrose—gentlemen—I give you my word that when I stood in my stirrups and shouted, ‘The enemy are beaten! God save the Queen!’ and my glorious soldiers answered me with three feeble but indomitable cheers, I would not have changed places—Heaven forgive me!—with the Duke after Waterloo!”
No comparison on earth could have meant more to Sir Harry, and his voice trembled as though he feared sacrilege in venturing upon it, but the little company round the table rose up with one accord and cheered him again. The men were too much moved to speak, but Eveleen was never at a loss for words, even while she dashed her tears away with a wet handkerchief.
“And why would you, Sir Harry? Sure the odds were smaller against us at Waterloo than to-day.”
“My dear lady, never say such a thing again. At Waterloo the Duke confronted the greatest commander the world has ever known—and the world itself was the prize. Here I was faced only by an unlettered barbarian, knowing nothing of the lessons of military history, nor skilful enough even to take advantage of an inexperienced adversary commanding young troops. But after to-day I am no longer inexperienced. Last night I wondered whether I could conduct a battle; now I know I can. And my troops are not young soldiers any longer. Now that they have seen the proud Arabit—not in flight, but stalking unwillingly away, with frequent backward looks of hatred and contempt—they may respect him, but they will fear him no longer. Never again will they be checked by such a surprise as that of to-day.”
“But sure there’ll be no more fighting?” she asked in dismay. “Not after a battle like this?”
“What do you say, Ambrose? Have we seen the last of ’em yet?”
“I fear not, General. There are too many left.”
“My notion precisely. D’ye see, ma’am, a lot of these fellows must have run away just because they saw others running—not because we beat ’em, for there weren’t enough of us to do it. Moreover, I have reason to believe they had not succeeded in bringing up all their forces. Kamal-ud-din, in particular, I am assured was not present.”
“But the prisoners would maybe be telling you that just to make the victory less, Sir Harry.”
“There ain’t any prisoners. No quarter was given—it was impossible. The wounded Arabit, writhing on the ground, would cut at the legs of the soldier trying to avoid trampling on him. I myself sought in vain to save a brave fellow from the bayonet of one of our men. He disdained my offer, and fought grimly to the end. ‘It’s butcher’s work to-day, and nothing else, General,’ says the victor to me as he withdrew his weapon. No, I have learnt nothing from the foe. My informants are my own spies, who tell me that Kamal-ud-din, with his ten thousand followers, had not come up. More and more do I rejoice that I took the risk presented to me. I own I was tempted to hold off for a while this morning, and let my artillery play upon the enemy’s position before attempting the attack. What would have been the result? Time, on which, unknown to me, all depended, would have been lost. If the Khans had not taken courage to endeavour to outflank me, Kamal-ud-din must have caught me in the rear. At least he will think twice before doing so now. They know this cock can fight.”
“Ah, but tell me,” cried Eveleen, rather maladroitly—it was the suggestion of loss of time that had been the connecting link in her mind, “what has happened Colonel Bayard? Did you meet him at all?”
“He has not come in yet, but he had some distance to march. I wished over and over again I had his two hundred sepoys, and especially the European officers, with me, but he can quite well claim that the smoke he raised alarmed the enemy, and prevented their making off in that direction.” Sir Henry spoke in measured tones, but in the minds of all present was the thought of Colonel Bayard’s unceasing efforts to bring about further delay, and the disaster they might have caused. The General spoke again in his ordinary voice.
“But without information from Bayard, or even my spies, I can see with my own eyes that the enemy are by no means vanished away. There are large bodies of ’em hanging about still in a highly suspicious manner—ready, no doubt, to fall on our flanks should we attempt a night march, or to harass us in any other respect. But they will find no opportunity. I can’t order the cavalry to disperse ’em, for I have not enough, and those I have are worn out with to-day’s exertions, and I have work for ’em to-morrow; but if they venture to attack us, I think they’ll have a hard nut to crack. Tell me, ma’am, do you remark any peculiar feature about this camp?”
“Only that it seems smaller—more compact; and there are fewer natives about—more soldiers,” said Eveleen hesitatingly. Sir Harry laughed triumphantly.
“Aha, Ambrose! your good lady has a sharp eye. Yes, ma’am; from this night’s bivouac the camp-followers are excluded. Their numbers and their lack of discipline would embarrass any force—have ruined many, in Ethiopia and elsewhere. The moment an attack is delivered the terror-stricken multitude, with cries of panic, seek the opportunity to escape, urging before them their animals, often their sole possession. The disorderly mass, rushing upon the troops, bursts through the ranks, and leaves an opening of which the enemy is waiting to take advantage. But to-night we are formed in square, and the camp-followers are outside at a convenient distance, while the baggage, as you see, is in the centre. Should an alarm be raised, and the followers run in upon the square, the soldiers are warned to fire upon them and the enemy alike. More bloodshed—eh? Believe me, it ain’t by any desire of mine, but I must safeguard the lives of my troops. As I rode over the field just now, and beheld the heaps of dead, I said to myself, ‘Am I guilty of these horrid scenes?’ but my conscience refused to reproach me.”
“And well it might, General!” said Brian heartily. “Is there one of us here hasn’t heard it said over and over again, ‘The General’s the only officer in the force that don’t wish for a fight’?”
“Because I have seen battles before now—such as you young fellows hardly dream of—and know their full horrors. Well, you will all justify me, when I am dead and gone. Gentlemen, I am indebted to you for your services to-day, and you won’t find me forgetful. To-morrow I shall ask you, it may be, for others even more arduous. I send off a squadron at dawn to demand the surrender of Qadirabad on pain of being stormed, while we face about to deal with Kamal-ud-din when he comes up—if he comes up, perhaps I should say.”
He stood up stiffly to shake hands with each of his guests. “Good night, ma’am; good night, good night! I wish you would take order with this brother of yours. He goes about looking for personal combats, which I tell him ain’t becoming in a staff officer. After having his horse killed under him in the bed of the watercourse, what does he do but seek out and slay one of the principal chiefs of the enemy, in the midst of his followers? There’s a fire-eater for you—eh?”
“Brian!” Eveleen’s tone was poignant, “d’ye tell me Cromaboo is killed? I saw you were riding Bawn, but I thought——”
“Will you listen to her? She’d rather her own and only brother was killed, than his horse!” cried Brian reproachfully.
“Come along, my dear. We are taking up the General’s time,” said Richard, and she obeyed reluctantly. It was the kind of evening on which it seems impossible to go to bed as if nothing had happened.
Colonel Bayard was in camp in the morning—very well pleased with himself in the honest conviction that his expedition had contributed materially to the General’s success. His force, on the other hand, were so disgusted that their comrades found it advisable not to mention the battle to them. To spend a whole day in trying to set fire to a forest which would not burn, and from which the enemy had silently vanished in the night, while eight miles away a life-and-death struggle was going forward—as the booming of the guns showed,—this was enough to make any troops angry. A little ray of hope had brightened their path as they approached the camp towards midnight, for an alarm of some sort had led to heavy firing; but if it was really due to an attack by the enemy—and not to a panic among the excluded camp-followers, who suffered heavily when they tried to find refuge in the square—it was quickly beaten off. The General, wrapped in his cloak, slept through it all, and even through Colonel Bayard’s efforts to wake him and report, but in the morning he was as fresh and cheerful as a youngster of twenty. He had already put things in motion for the day when he met his staff at breakfast in the shivering dawn, and at that uncomfortable hour they found his good humour little short of irritating. But knowing him, they understood it when they realised the stake for which he was playing.
“In an hour from now we should receive the reply of the Khans.” He dropped the remark into the group round the table like a bomb.
“Have you summoned the city already, General?” asked Colonel Bayard, laughing.
“I have. Keeling is gone off with a flag of truce, and the ten best-mounted men he could pick from his regiment, so as to produce a good impression.”
“And what terms do you offer the Khans, if I may ask?”
“Terms, sir?” explosively. “Their lives!”
“Nothing more?”
“Nothing more.” In Sir Harry’s voice there was no response to the dismay in Colonel Bayard’s. “And there will be no haggling, neither. They will find me as hard as iron. Why”—he smote his hand on the table,—“I can afford nothing else. For the sake of having Qadirabad behind me as a strong place to protect my wounded and baggage, I have entered on this game of brag, but had the enemy the slightest suspicion that it was brag, our goose would be cooked. What are those bodies of armed men doing hanging about on all sides of us—within cannon-shot, even? The city must be mine by noon, and then I will turn upon these Arabit stragglers, and make up Kamal-ud-din’s mind for him. With another couple of regiments of horse, I could disperse ’em in style; but the cavalry is knocked up by the battle and the long march before it, and the camels couldn’t drag the guns another mile. In half an hour the hospitals and the baggage-train will set forward gently towards Qadirabad, guarded by the cavalry at a walk, and I trust the enemy, not knowing our plight, will take the movement as evidence of my relentless determination. You’ll go with ’em, ma’am”—suddenly to Eveleen, who was listening eagerly,—“but you won’t be rid of us long. We have—er—a bit of tidying up to do here, and then the rest of the force will follow.”
“And occupy the Fort to-night, Sir Harry?”
“H’m—hardly, I think. We shall see.”
“I presume you will listen to nothing from me, General,” broke in Colonel Bayard anxiously; “but I can’t reconcile it with my conscience not to tell you that this is madness. The city is packed with Arabits armed to the teeth, devoted adherents of the Khans, on whose ruin you are determined. You propose to drive them to desperation——”
“Not listen to you!” exploded Sir Harry. “Pray, sir, how long is it since I listened to your repeated assurances that there were no armed men in the city save the personal servants of the Khans? You are singing to a different tune now. I have listened to you till you have nearly succeeded in making an end of us all. If my intention be madness, it is the calculated madness that stakes all upon a single throw, and wins. The Khans shall have no further consideration—I owe them none. My sole aim is the safety of my troops.”
“I see—I know,” sadly. “You must pardon my warmth, Sir Henry. The Khans have been the principal object of my consideration for so long—it is painful to me, you may guess, to see them overthrown. Be sure, sir, I shall venture no further criticism.”
“Nonsense, man! I shall invite your remarks, and you will give them, dozens of times in the next day or so, I make no doubt. But in this matter my mind is made up.”
“And glad I am to hear it!” murmured Eveleen under her breath, meeting a return glance of sympathy even from the well-trained eye of Richard. Lovable as was Colonel Bayard’s chivalrous forbearance towards the Khans, there were very few Europeans in Khemistan to whom it had not by this time become decidedly exasperating, and she left the breakfast-table in quite a happy frame of mind to pack up her few possessions. Her place in the line of march was duly appointed her—ahead of the hospital doolies, which again were followed by the baggage-animals, so as to escape the dust these kicked up,—and she exchanged a cheerful salutation with young Kenton as she passed him. Guarded by the cavalry ahead and on either flank, the column moved off—towards the long fortress on the hill, whose massive tower loomed above the intervening jungle-clad flats, and dominated the town on the slopes beneath it. Keen-eyed watchers on its ramparts might even have been able to trace the course of yesterday’s battle—be able now to discern what they read as the victor’s advance. The slow pace at which the cavalry moved, owing to the fatigue of their horses, must have seemed to the Khans and their followers the relentless deliberation of fate, for the Vakils who were on their way from the city with Captain Keeling and his flag of truce besought Sir Harry with anguish as soon as they beheld him to stop the march until he himself was present to control his troops. He sent a messenger after the convoy at once, and a halt was called, to the joy of both man and beast. The General’s colloquy with the Vakils was brief and businesslike, carrying conviction to their hearts, which could not conceive it possible that such demands could come from the commander of a weak tired force, already frightfully reduced from its original strength. To them the bent little man who emerged growling from the dirty tent hardly large enough to shelter him was the irresistible disposer of many legions, and when he had once cut short their elaborate compliments and lamentable pleading, they offered no protest against his hard terms. They would carry them back to their Highnesses, they said, and return.
“By noon, then!” snapped Sir Harry, with appalling ferocity. “Otherwise—— Well, I shall have buried my dead by that time, and my soldiers will have had their breakfast. Qadirabad would make a fine supper for them!”
The deputation shuddered and withdrew—noting, to their horror, that the tents which had sheltered the European part of the army during the night were already being struck, and that the advanced-guard which had been halted at their request resumed its march as soon as they had passed it. It was abundantly clear that Sir Henry would be as good as his word, for by noon his approaching troops were easily visible from the gate of the Fort. Panic-stricken, the Vakils issued forth again, bearing the entreaty of their panic-stricken masters that the Bahadar Jang would deign to stay his victorious course. The Khans would surrender, they were on the point of doing so; their palanquins were actually being prepared.
“Before the gate, then,” said Sir Harry grimly. “They will find me waiting for them,” and he halted his troops and bade them stand to arms beneath the wall of the Fort. The soldiers grumbled horribly at being cheated of their noonday rest, but not a man would willingly have been absent when the procession of scarlet palanquins was seen approaching, escorted by the usual gorgeous retinue mounted on gaily caparisoned horses and camels. The little army which had yesterday overthrown more than twenty times its own number formed square to receive them, Sir Harry on his black Arab in the midst, with Colonel Bayard beside him, and the staff behind. All were in field dress, worn and soiled, for their scanty baggage allowed no finery, and the General, spectacles on nose as usual, wore his shabby blue uniform and the curious helmet tilted well over his eyes. To Eveleen, watching from the background, the sense of drama was almost painfully present as the six Khans, emerging one by one from their palanquins, made their way humbly on foot to the conqueror, and proffered him their jewelled swords, which he bade them retain. Gul Ali was almost maudlin in his self-abasement, but Khair Husain evidently intended to carry things with a high hand. He demanded jovially of Colonel Bayard where he had been the day before, since he had hunted for him all over the battlefield that he might be able to surrender to a friend, and he offered the General something else besides his sword. What it was Eveleen could not see, but she fancied the man’s eyes looked past Sir Harry and rested on her. An angry refusal snapped out, and Khair Husain passed on with a deprecatory gesture. Young Hafiz Ullah was set at liberty, as a compliment to Colonel Bayard, to whose care he had been committed by his father on his deathbed, but the rest of the Khans were handed over to Brian for safe keeping—the scene of which was to be their own beautiful garden-palace near the Agency, easily guarded, and remote from the chance of a rescue. With slow dragging steps the fallen Princes returned to their palanquins, and with their servants, were carried away under a strong guard, Captain Stewart riding up to the city with an escort to take over the principal gateway as the General’s representative. Sir Harry drew a long breath as he and Colonel Bayard turned their horses away again.