“Good-bye, sir!—— But would you tell me your name?”
“I am Brigadier Nicholson,” was the simple reply.
Ted’s heart glowed with pride and pleasure. He had shaken hands with this famous man; he had actually enjoyed ten minutes’ private talk with him—a thing half the officers in the camp would have given much for. The name of the young general was on everyone’s lips. Over the heads of his seniors in rank John Nicholson had been given the command of the Punjab Movable Column, and wherever that column had marched victory had crowned its arms, no matter what the odds. Along the frontier of the Indus, amidst the wild robber clans of Bannu, he was worshipped as a deity; and Ted now understood what had been incomprehensible before, namely, the strange behaviour of the subadar, and the sudden awe that had fallen upon the Pathans as soon as Ahmed Khan had whispered the magic words “Jan Nikkulseyn”.
CHAPTER XXI
“Wombwell’s Menagerie”
On his return in the early morning of the following day, Ted related his adventures to brother and cousin, and told of his interview with the hero of the Punjab.
“Yes,” replied Jim, “Nicholson has been here inspecting our defences and examining our men. He’s left his column behind and galloped on to confer with our general. Lucky for you, young ’un, that he happened to be present. But, then, you are such a lucky beggar!”
“I wonder what they’ll do to your friend the major?” observed Charlie, whose splendid constitution was doing wonders for him.
“Ask him to resign, I expect,” Jim opined.