“Oh!” ejaculated Dick, and his eyes kindled as he sat there upon a knoll with his troop, gazing round at the two or three native regiments, a squadron of cavalry, and the foot artillery and their heavy guns, which had taken part in the field-day.
“It may be only a false alarm,” said Wyatt, “but I thought you’d like to know; only you mustn’t begin to howl about feeling hot and tired if we have any real work to do, nor yet think about running away.”
Dick bit his lip, and then said huskily, “Am I likely to feel disposed to run away?”
“Perhaps so, the first time.”
“Did you?”
“What?” cried Wyatt fiercely, as he turned upon the calm, imperturbable face looking in his. “Did you mean that as an insult, Mr Darrell?”
“No,” said Dick, his eyes twinkling with mischievous exultation. “Did you?”
“Got me!” said Wyatt, shaking his head and chuckling softly. “Hist! look out. Here comes the general.”
Captain Hulton gave the word, and in an instant the men were rigid in their saddles, with the line as regular as if they were on parade, for a little knot of horsemen came cantering up, the general and his staff a short distance behind.
He drew rein in front of the troop, and sat talking to the captain for a minute, and then walked his horse slowly along the line, keenly examining everything.