"Why, you know. What about that rickety native fort? Bless me!"
The Colonel swung round in his saddle, while the adjutant grinned.
"A regular young fire-eater, sir," he whispered.
"And what if all my cornets made the same request?" demanded the Colonel. "But there. We can spare you. I'll see one of the staff and ask him to manufacture some orders for you, for you can't accompany the storming party unless there is good excuse. Now be careful, and if you get a crack over the head, or get killed, why, don't blame me."
He acknowledged Owen's salute somewhat surlily, and rode off with the adjutant, while Owen, his spirits raised to a high pitch, clapped heels to the fine Mahratta horse he rode and went furiously off the parade ground. However, within some fifty yards he was brought up with a shout, and checking his mount, turned him with an easy swerve. There was a native orderly beside him by now, and his lance went to the salute.
"The Colonel Sahib desires you to return."
"To tell me I cannot go," groaned Owen, as he set his beast in motion. However, he little guessed the cause. He pulled up within a horse's length of the commanding officer and saluted.
"Mr. Jones, will you please to remember that you are not to gallop off the parade ground unless carrying an order. There is no need for such haste. Bear that in mind in future."
With a swing the Colonel and his adjutant pulled[Pg 203] their animals round and trotted away, leaving our hero somewhat crestfallen. But the two who rode away wore a smile of evident amusement.