Presently Mr Kelsall’s banyan brought in Mr Dash in a riding-dress, his whole appearance much disordered.
“I hope there’s no bad news, sir?” says our host.
“I doubt but I’m a sort of skeleton at your feast, sir, but I thought all the company would be concerned in what I have just learnt, which must be my excuse for breaking in upon the ladies in this attire. The letter wrote by the Governor and Council in reply to the Soubah’s last perwannah reached him eight days back at Rajamaul[01] on his way to Purranea, and on receiving it, he gave instant orders to cease the advance against his cousin, and returned to invest our factory at Cossimbuzar.”
“Why, the fellow has some mettle in him after all!” cries Ensign Bellamy. “Sure we shall have some fighting now, gentlemen.”
“I would not have you too sure of that, sir,” says Mr Dash. “The President and the Select Committee, who are considering the news, may prefer to disarm the Nabob’s enmity by destroying such of our defences as en’t ready to fall down of themselves.”
“That’s our newly-repaired row of guns on the west face of the Fort,” says Ensign Piccard, with a groan.
“And the redoubt here on Perrins Point,” says Mr Kelsall.
“Nay, sir,” says Mr Dash, “’twill be even this pavilion of yours, perhaps. The Indians all take it for a work of defence.”
“I’ll be hanged,” says Mr Kelsall, very red in the face, “if I’ll pull down my new summerhouse for any Soubah that ever sat on the musnet!”
“Sure, sir, you underrate the meekness of our Government. The Council will do it for you, sooner than affront the Nabob.”