“Score for our Gurkhas!” Dorricot shouted back.
“What do you think of that, youngsters?” he continued, turning to Ted and Alec. “I feel as though I’d been made a K.C.B. at least. We must fall the men in and be off.”
The Gurkha bugles sounded and the battalion fell in, whilst their commandant informed them that the general had paid them the great compliment of selecting them for the post of honour, and he had no doubt that they would show themselves in every way worthy to uphold the traditions of their race. The little men grinned, well pleased, as their officer went on to warn them that it would also be the post of danger; that upon the house of Hindu Rao would fall the brunt of all the rebel attacks, and that the building would be the main target for the Delhi artillery.
The little men huzzaed at the prospect. The fiercer the battle waging around them the better pleased would they be. They meant to hold their post tooth and nail.
“What plucky little fiends they are!” Alec whispered. “Danger evidently appeals to them as a most delightful prospect.”
When the news spread that the Gurkhas had been awarded the post of honour, the soldiers assembled to cheer their comrades from the mountains of Nepal as they marched away. Never did general make a wiser selection. Prominent amidst the glorious achievements during the siege of Delhi stands out the dogged pluck of the Gurkha picket, who successfully held the house of Hindu Rao during a hundred days of terrific fighting and bombardment, though only a handful escaped death or wounds.
Rooms were apportioned to the various ranks, and the Sirmur men were speedily settled in their new quarters. Ted and Charlie strolled round the mansion, and, gazing upon the Imperial City, entered into an argument respecting their distance from the big cannon of the Mori bastion.
They were still disputing, when a pleasant-looking, gentlemanly young Gurkha officer joined them, and, jerking our ensign round by his jacket collar to face the new-comer, Charlie observed:
“I ought to have introduced you two before. Goria Thapa, can you guess who the ensign sahib is? He is Ensign Russell, son of your father’s comrade, of whom you have often heard. Ted, this is Jemadar Goria Thapa, son of Jaspao Thapa, your guvnor’s great pal of 1815.”
Goria Thapa’s jolly countenance became wreathed in grins. He held out his hand, saying: