“Yes, very,” I replied.
“Good. Recollect, lad, that you may have to use it; and then you must strike or give point—do so with vigour. Your life or mine may depend upon it.”
“I’ll try, and do my best,” I said huskily.
“I know you will, Gil; and may God help us!”
There was another long period of watching before he spoke again.
“It is of no use, lad,” he said. “My fault; and I have upset as splendid a plan as was ever conceived, by letting those prisoners escape. They must have reached the place, and are giving the rajah the information of danger to him and his being so near. It’s all over; they will not drill to-day.”
“But we can follow them up, and get another chance,” I said soothingly.
“No, lad,” he replied, “never again. Knowing that he is pursued, he will be too watchful. Our chance is gone.”
“Look there,” I said, steadying my eyes with my hand; “isn’t that the rajah mounting? I can’t see, but I saw something flashing in the sun.”
“Yes,” cried Brace, in a trembling voice. “It is—it is; and he is riding out to the front. Look, there is the order. The men have limbered up, and mounted. There, again. Hurrah! they are in motion. Do you see? they are coming out into the plain. Gil, lad, your hand. He cannot have got the warning, or they would follow the road. Now, may Heaven help our good cause, bring us safely through to-day’s peril, and help us to acquit ourselves like British soldiers and like men.”