“Ah then, Sir Harry, you have spoilt my compliment that I was going to offer! What’s the use of my telling you y’are brave, when y’have said it about yourselves already?”
“But how could we be other than brave when we had Mrs Ambrose to fight for?” asked the General gallantly.
“Cot, Evie!” cried Brian. “Acknowledge us all as heroes now, or confess your smiles have lost their power.”
“Where’s that wreath of mine?” demanded Richard—a little above himself, like the rest, after this wonderful day.
“Here!” said Eveleen unexpectedly, bringing it out from behind her, but he was equal to the occasion.
“Present it to the General, then, pray. We may all be heroes, as your brother says, but there would have been no victory without him.”
“Will y’accept it, Sir Harry?” Eveleen held up the wreath.
“May it be conferred upon Black Prince instead? At one moment I confess I was on the point of saving my valuable life by sacrificing his, poor beast! so it’s fitting he should have some reward, especially since poor Kenton—— But how is my young hero?”
“Quite happy once we heard the soldiers cheering for the victory——” Eveleen was arranging the wreath over the charger’s ears. “They took his arm off soon after that, and I have not seen him since, but the surgeon says he will do well. Then was it he or Black Prince saved your life, Sir Harry?”
“Young Kenton, as it happened. A big strapping fellow of an Arabit came over the bank, saw me riding alone in front of the line, and made straight for me. With these broken fingers, I was powerless to defend myself, but I got half the reins into that hand, with frightful agony, intending as he cut at me to give Black Prince’s head a chuck that would make the poor animal the recipient of the blow instead of me. But Kenton ran forward and took the cut on his arm, thrusting at the Arabit, who warded it off with his shield, and would have cut at us again, had not a soldier come up in time with his bayonet. So you see I have the three of ’em to thank.”