"That shows how little she knows about it. But I give you my word she ain't going to lose a good husband through any slackness of mine. You won't find me wasting my opportunities as you have been doing."

"You pitch it pretty strong, Bob, but I believe I deserve it. Still, it was not my fault that I could not settle things that last moment. Will you do this for me, old boy? When we get back to Ranjitgarh, leave me free to speak to her if I meet her first. If I find that it is you after all, I promise you to make no attempt to persuade her, and if you meet her first, of course you will find out for yourself."

"I believe you, my boy! And I only hope we may find out definitely.

This uncertainty plays the very mischief with a man when he has time to think of it."

"My dear Bob, you don't mean to say you would rather know that all was up with you than be able to go on hoping?"

"That I would! One can set one's teeth then, and grin and bear it, but it's horrid disturbing, when you're trying to give your mind to regular hard grinding work, for the thought of all that kind of thing to be always intruding."

"If I didn't know you better than you know yourself, old boy, I should say not only that you didn't care a pin for her, but that you couldn't.

Why, how could one carry on work at all without those very thoughts to help one?"

"You're getting libellous, Hal. It's the uncertainty, not the thoughts, that I find disturbing. If she would take me--bless her!--I'll lay you anything you like she would be the Commander-in-Chief's lady in the shortest time on record."

"Bob, it's precious hard on both of us. Whichever gets her, one of us must be miserable."

"Let us make quite sure that she's happy, then. But it's a little late to be talking like this, ain't it? What I find most cause to blame in you, Hal, is a tendency to the sentimental. Turn your mind strictly to business--namely, to receiving the orderly who is about to summon you to the presence of the high and mighty Speathley."

After the warning he had received, Gerrard was not likely to be late for his appointment, but when he arrived at Major-General Speathley's headquarters, it was evident that the Brigadier thought it salutary for junior officers to cool their heels a little in his anteroom. A number of other men were hanging about, and a low buzz of conversation filled the tent. Gerrard was known by name to most of those present, and he was soon in possession of the chief item of interest which was agitating the camp. That morning's reconnaissance had been pushed as far as Ratan Singh's tomb, which had been occupied without opposition, and a careful search had revealed the shallow grave in which the dishonoured remains of Nisbet and Cowper had been hastily hidden after the tragedy in the spring.

"The old man swears he will turn out Ratan Singh--whoever he may have been--and give the poor chaps a _pucca_ funeral in the shrine itself,"

said one youth.

"I was not aware that we fought with the dead," said Gerrard, rather disgusted.

"Seems rayther a spicy idea to me," drawled another. "They do our fellows out of a grave, so we prig one of theirs for 'em."

"Surely we can do better for them than a second-hand tomb," said Gerrard, more emphatically than he realised. "Wouldn't it be more to the purpose to leave Ratan Singh in peace, since he has done us no injury, and punish the living who deserve it?"

"Eh--what?" demanded an explosive voice behind the group. "And who may you be, young sir, who think your opinion so well worth hearing?"

Gerrard turned to confront a short choleric man in uniform, whom he had no difficulty in recognising to be the Brigadier. "My name is Gerrard, sir, and I am attached to the Habshiabad force."

"Oho!" General Speathley drew out with some difficulty an eyegla.s.s, and fixing it in his eye, looked up at Gerrard as though he had been too small to see without it. "So this is another of the sucking Caesars who command armies in Granthistan! And what, pray, may be the nature of your very valuable suggestion, sir?"

"I have acted as Resident at Agpur, sir, and know something about the people, and I was about to say that they would be far more impressed with the retribution if we buried our glorious dead in the very midst of the city from which they were driven rather than in an old tomb outside it."

The astonishment on the General's face was reflected on those around him.

Clearly it was not often that Brigadier Speathley heard an opinion different from his own. "Proceed, sir, proceed!" he snapped ferociously.

"I'll be bound we haven't been favoured with the full extent of your views yet."

The tone was intolerable, and Gerrard grew white with suppressed wrath.

"I have no more to say, sir, if the petty and unchristian course of turning a dead man out of his grave has already been decided upon."

"I thought so!" cried the General in triumph. "Antony's cursed sentimental notions, of course--might have known it. You are one of those who prefer the blackfellows to your own people, sir, who think the lives of the Company's servants are nothing compared with the fear of displeasing the natives."

"At least, sir, I placed myself at Mr Charteris's disposal to rescue or avenge Captain Cowper and Mr Nisbet, or your army might not have been here to-day. And you will permit me to add that I still consider my plan likely to be more impressive, if less disgusting, to the natives than yours."

"And you'll permit me to say, sir," roared the General, whose eyes were protruding from his head, "that my plan will be carried out if every pestilent political in Granthistan is opposed to it. It's high time you came back to duty, sir. You seconded subalterns think no small beer of yourselves, I know, but you'll learn better here, I can tell you, and you'll find---- Eh, what's that?"

An un.o.btrusive aide-de-camp was presenting a paper at his elbow, and as he read it his face changed, but by no means cleared. "Hum--ha!" he muttered, "it seems you have some fancy status here--political trick, I suppose--some quibble about Habshiabad lying outside Granthistan. But it's all one. If you ain't under my command, you don't get mentioned in my despatches--see? Eh, how does that suit you, sir?"

"I am honoured by the omission, sir," said Gerrard.

[1] Prestige.

[2] Native force under European leadership.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE TRIUMPH OF THE DEAD.

The siege of Agpur was in full swing, the big guns battering at the walls from a distance, while the trenches crept nearer and nearer to the outlying suburbs. Nisbet and Cowper still slept in their desecrated grave in the precincts of Ratan Singh's tomb, not because the mind of General Speathley had yielded in the least to Gerrard's arguments, but on account of the opportune arrival of the ammunition for which the army had been waiting, and which enabled active work to begin at once. A chilly neutrality reigned between the Brigadier and the officer accompanying the Habshiabad troops, who saw as little as possible of one another, finding it advisable to communicate through a third person. This was usually Charteris, who stood aghast when he found what a gulf had been established between them.

"If it had been me to go into a pa.s.sion and use insubordinate language, no one would have wondered," he lamented. "But you, Hal--who have barely lost your temper three times in your life! And on a mere matter of sentiment, too!"

"Didn't you yourself accuse me of a tendency to the sentimental?"

"That was in an affair in which it was more or less natural. But when it comes to being cut out of despatches for the sake of a dead blackfellow----! Seriously, old boy, it may be bad for you in the future."

"You know as well as I do whether mention in despatches would have the slightest weight with a certain lady if she cared for a man. And if she didn't, what in the world does it signify losing it?"

"Poor beggar, he's got 'em badly!" mused Charteris, as he left his friend's tent. His own sphere of influence being situated within the confines of Granthistan, he was indubitably subordinate to General Speathley, but a certain power of accommodating himself to his surroundings had saved him from incurring the Brigadier's active enmity. He could never be wholly forgiven for taking on his own account those preliminary steps which must always prevent the conquest of Agpur from being ascribed to the Bombay Army, but he had sufficient tact, or worldly wisdom, to refrain from such allusions to the fact as Gerrard had let fall.

The beleaguered garrison of Agpur were not minded to take their punishment lying down. At first Sher Singh had sent various amba.s.sadors professing his readiness to surrender if his life was guaranteed, and when the authorities on the spot proved adamant, indited heart-rending letters to Sir Edmund Antony, entreating his intervention. But the Governor-General had spoken too plainly to admit any possibility of mistake, or even a loophole for mediation, and Sir Edmund, wounded and resentful as he felt over the treatment meted out to him, could only repeat the promise already given of a fair trial for the Rajah if he surrendered, and protection for his women. Thereupon Sher Singh's attempts at negotiation ceased, and his followers applied themselves with ardour to making the besiegers' position as uncomfortable as possible, by means of sorties and surprise attacks.

There was always the chance of an outbreak of disease in the British camp, or even a successful diversion on the part of the revolted Granthistan army, such as might compel the raising of the siege.

For some nights there had been no attempt at a surprise, and the trenches had been advanced to a point at which it was intended to erect a new battery to a.s.sail the portion of the city walls best adapted for breaching. The construction of this battery was being busily pushed forward in the dark, by the help of shaded lights, when the working-party were fiercely a.s.sailed by a horde of the enemy, mounted and on foot, who had poured silently through the gate nearest to the threatened point, and almost reached the works before their presence was detected. The whole of the British force stood to its arms, but salutary experience had taught the leaders that sorties seldom came singly, and only the troops nearest the point of attack were moved to repulse it. On the further side of the city Gerrard had a hard task to restrain the eagerness of his men, who could not see why they should be kept out of the fight, and avenged themselves by detecting endless imaginary sorties against their own position. It was a night of peculiar blackness, and General Desdichado, who had been drawn from his seclusion by the alarm, evidently found it trying to his nerves. His agitation culminated at last in a wild charge into the darkness, followed by as many of the Habshiabadis as could find their horses, yelling and discharging their muskets into the night. Gerrard, hoa.r.s.e with his vain exertions, half amused and half disgusted, was left with Rukn-ud-din and the Rajput Amrodh Chand and their men to defend the camp. He turned to make an ironical remark to the former, but found him standing like a statue, listening intently.

"Sahib, there come men from the city. As they crossed the bridge, I heard their horses' feet on the planks."

"Let us go forward a short distance," said Gerrard, and they went out into the gloom, the tumult of the Habshiabadis' charge on the left growing faint in their ears. They could hear nothing of the advance Rukn-ud-din thought he had detected, and Gerrard, concluding that the man's ears had deceived him, was about to suggest returning to the camp, when a distant flash of lightning, such as had been playing on the horizon during the earlier part of the evening, lit up the landscape, and showed a company of hors.e.m.e.n riding cautiously away from the city. Their aim was evidently to pa.s.s between the camp of the Habshiabadis and that of the next besieging unit, and they had almost accomplished their purpose when they were seen.

"The brother-slayer seeks to steal away by night!" cried Rukn-ud-din fiercely, and without another word he and Gerrard turned and raced for the camp. One moment to despatch an orderly with a request to Charteris to detail some of his Darwanis to guard the tents until General Desdichado saw fit to return, and another to acquaint the Brigadier with the importance of the crisis, and all the troop were in their saddles and thundering out in pursuit. There was no need for secrecy, for the fugitives had now laid aside their caution, and could be heard riding for all they were worth, and the result of the chase would depend on speed, not cunning. So thick was the darkness that more than once Gerrard was obliged to draw rein, and in the silence palpitating with the breath of excited men and horses, listen for the pursued, but it was soon clear that they were maintaining a fairly straight line for the north. There they must sooner or later be stopped by the river--unless, indeed, the plot included the bribing of some of the native contractors supplying the British to have their boats available, and Gerrard redoubled his efforts to catch them up before they reached it. Accidents arising from irrigation-ca.n.a.ls or unsuspected nullahs delayed him once or twice, but when the dawn broke a shout of triumph burst from his weary men. The fugitives were full in view, and there were women among them. Their horses were obviously flagging, and the dark line which denoted the brink of the now flooded river was still some distance in front. Barely, however, had the troopers given vent to their irrepressible joy at the prospect of so important a capture, with the loot which would almost certainly accompany it, when one of them, happening to look behind, uttered a cry of surprise and disgust. The pursuers were themselves pursued, a body of Bombay cavalry following hard upon their heels. Gerrard set his teeth angrily as he looked round and verified the man's information.

General Speathley was determined not to allow even this minor exploit to fall to the share of his allies.

The Rani's contingent needed no words to induce them to get the utmost out of their horses in order if possible to reach the fugitives first, but the pursuers gained upon them steadily, and when the two parties were actually riding level, and an orderly appeared at his elbow, Gerrard was reluctantly forced to turn and accept a written order desiring him to give up the pursuit into the hands of the officer commanding the troops. To share the honour would have been bad enough, to lose it altogether was monstrous, and his men eyed the Bombay troopers with such disfavour as made it evident that little was wanting to bring about a fratricidal fight. Gerrard was obliged to fling himself into the breach, and argue and persuade his sullen sowars into allowing themselves to be drawn off. The incident had caused a slight loss of time, and it was some consolation to the disappointed ones that the fugitives had contrived to increase their distance before the Bombay troop were in motion again. Pride forbade Gerrard and his followers to wait and see the result of the chase, and they turned their horses' heads towards Agpur, disdaining to seek more definite information than could be obtained by furtive glances backwards on the part of the rear-rank men, whose observations percolated from one to another until they reached their commander. In this way Gerrard learned that the fugitives had been caught up on, or at any rate near, the very brink of the river, and that a brisk fight was proceeding. He had a resentful impulse to take his troop on at full speed, that they might not behold the triumph of the interlopers, but the horses were tired, and there was no sense in riding them hard now. Without the excitement of the chase to stimulate them, the men flagged after their long night's work, and it was a dispirited and sulky-looking band that watched the victorious Bombay troop ride proudly by, escorting their captives. The conquerors expressed their feelings by gestures of derision, which Gerrard's men were too much crushed to return, and vanished ahead in a cloud of dust. But when the vanquished tailed dolefully into camp some hours later, they were met by their Habshiabadi comrades, eager to inform them that the triumph had not been so complete after all. The majority of the fugitives had been captured, including Sher Singh's favourite wife and her attendants, but the Rajah himself had spurred his horse into the river and been carried quickly by the swollen current beyond reach of pursuit. It would have been too much to expect the Rani's men to feel any sorrow at this news, but politeness demanded that they should express it, and fatigue was forgotten in the delight of donning fresh clothes and paying visits of condolence to the camp of the Bombay cavalry. The keenest joy came from the fact which was on every man's lips, that but for the delay caused by the change of pursuers, Sher Singh's whole party might have been surrounded and captured before it reached the brink of the river.

But if the disappointment of Sher Singh's escape was outweighed in the men's minds by the fact that it was through their rivals' fingers he had slipped, Gerrard was not able to console himself so easily.

Charteris, who had heard with burning indignation of the treatment he had received, hurried to his tent to sympathize with him, and it seemed as though the two men had exchanged characters, as Gerrard strode up and down, breathing out furious threats against the Brigadier, while his friend, seated precariously astride a camp-chair, sought to interject counsels of prudence.