“I think he has been trying to force himself to retain confidence in the Khans, sir; but surely his eyes must be opened now! Did you hear that the attack on the Agency was directed by Khair Husain Khan, who had offered the day before to bring his troops to protect us? I saw him plainly with my telescope, leading his army industriously from the rear.”
The General laughed—a short hard laugh. “Well, they have come to the end of their tricks and evasions now! At nine to-morrow morning I lead my gallant troops against ’em.”
“Have you stipulated with the Khans that they shall await your onslaught, General?”
Sir Harry laughed again. “I think they will—I trust they will. Were their numbers double the eighteen thousand Bayard gives ’em, I would still advance, but they may well consider eighteen thousand fairly matched against two. They are awaiting us at Mahighar. We march at dawn, and they won’t find us backward in keeping the appointment.”
“Do you propose to attack ’em in front, sir?”
“I do. Look at this: I had the choice of two roads. By marching inland I might have come on ’em from the rear and turned their right flank, penning ’em up with their backs to the river. But if my plans miscarried, I in my turn should run the risk of being dispersed and cut off in detail, since I should have nothing behind me but the desert. True, if successful, I might annihilate ’em, but I ain’t a lover of bloodshed, though Bayard believes me one. Whereas, coming at ’em straight in front, if I am beat back I retreat on the river, where are my steamers, and where I entrench myself while waiting for the reinforcements I have ordered down from Sahar. Why don’t I wait for ’em? you’ll say. Because I have enough men to beat the Khans with, and I won’t rob my troops of their glory by bringing in others to share it.”
“’Pon my honour, General”—Richard spoke with unwonted enthusiasm—“I believe you’ll find ’em answer your expectations.”
“I know I shall. There ain’t a regiment in Her Majesty’s Army I would rather have with me than my dear uproarious Irish boys—as tumultuous in peace as they are terrible in fight. But what I wished to ask you was about Mrs Ambrose. Do you prefer her to return on board the Asteroid when we march, or to take the chances of the battle with us?”
“That must be as you decide, General.”
“Nay, I beg of you to make the choice. In Spain no one would have felt the least surprise at her remaining with you, but we do things differently nowadays.”