“I’m afraid I was hasty in sending off that recommendation for the V.C.,” said Munro, “because if Tynan’s tale is true, Ted will not be entitled to it.”
“You’d better put that right at once,” advised the colonel. “Write and explain that there is some doubt.”
“I will at once. I hope the letter may be received before anything has been said to Ted. It would be cruel to raise the lad’s hopes.”
“I don’t believe a word of what Tynan has said,” Ethel declared. “I’m sure he was lying. I was watching his eyes all the time, and there was no truth in them.”
“It may be so, but I must write,” said Munro.
For a long time the major wrestled with pen and paper before he composed a letter to his satisfaction. The contents we already know, and how they dashed Ted’s hopes to the ground. The missive sealed, the colonel observed:
“I suppose we can trace Havildar Ambar Singh? His evidence will be wanted.”
Ambar Singh had returned to his home in Merwar. The 193rd had been disbanded, and the few who remained loyal had been drafted into the newly-raised corps. But the havildar was not in a fit condition to endure the strain of a campaign, so he had gone home to recruit his health. However, they thought they knew where to find him.
“We can hold no enquiry,” said the major, “until Delhi has fallen and Ted is free again, and the case ought certainly to be tried before officers other than those of the 193rd. We are hardly impartial, our sympathies being with Ted. Luckily Dwarika Rai is still here, and he may throw some light on the subject.”
For Dwarika Rai, the fourth survivor of Lowthian’s handful, had been promoted to the rank of havildar, and was now employed in drilling the raw material and teaching them the beauties of the goose-step.