He drew back with a smile, and once more the weapon was conveyed to the wagon.
In a very short time the captain’s messengers came galloping back at the head of fifty horsemen, who charged down nearly to the guns, and were halted almost as well as a troop of ordinary cavalry, and then sat up in line, smiling and proud of the hearty cheer with which they were received.
It was directly after that their captain asked for a couple of artillery-men to guide his people to where the Wazir fell.
“Yes,” said Hulton after a few words with his brother-officers; “but I have a word to say, sir. Your men have been drilled by English officers, and they must behave in war like Englishmen. We cannot stand by and see such a barbarous deed done as you propose. The Wazir was an enemy, but he was a great man and a brave soldier after all. I will send a gun-carriage and its team. Let the Wazir’s body be brought back into the town with all respect.”
The captain bowed and rode off without a word.
Chapter XLII.
A Confession.
It was drawing near to sundown when the head of the retiring troops filed on to the bridge and crossed the orange-tinted, flashing river. Swift messengers had preceded them at a gallop, bearing their captain’s message to his master, the Rajah—the news of the safety of the artillery troop and the Wazir’s defeat and death.
Consequently the bridge and streets were lined with troops and people, through whom the English and their glittering escort rode, the gun-carriage, with its dead burden, and its guard of artillery-men with drawn sabres, riveting every eye.
They were received in utter silence, not a murmur rising. Only the sound of trampling horse and rumbling gun and wagon wheels was heard.