Colonel Buchanan put out his hand and kept firm hold of Desmond's arm while he spoke.
"You'll be reasonable then, and—obey orders? You ought to find the coast clear going back and have no trouble. Young Spence commands the party, and Rajinder Singh takes thirty of your men. The old chap begged for permission to accompany you. See you again in a fortnight, if not sooner. Keep up a good heart; and take every possible precaution, for your own sake and—for the sake of the Regiment."
The final injunctions, jerked out brusquely, were in the nature of an achievement for this man of few words; and Desmond knew it. He wrung the iron-hard hand that held his own with all the force still left in him; and Colonel Buchanan returned to his waiting charger.
That afternoon, under a brilliant sky, the little ambulance party set out for Kohat—thirty cavalry and twenty infantry, with six swaying doolies in their midst. And among all the occupants of those comfortless conveyances, Harry Denvil was the only one for whom that journey was not a prolonged torment of pain and unrest.
[27] God.
CHAPTER XXIII.
YOU GO ALONE.
"It is poor work beating butterflies with a cart-rope."
—Lucas Malet.