“My notion precisely. D’ye see, ma’am, a lot of these fellows must have run away just because they saw others running—not because we beat ’em, for there weren’t enough of us to do it. Moreover, I have reason to believe they had not succeeded in bringing up all their forces. Kamal-ud-din, in particular, I am assured was not present.”
“But the prisoners would maybe be telling you that just to make the victory less, Sir Harry.”
“There ain’t any prisoners. No quarter was given—it was impossible. The wounded Arabit, writhing on the ground, would cut at the legs of the soldier trying to avoid trampling on him. I myself sought in vain to save a brave fellow from the bayonet of one of our men. He disdained my offer, and fought grimly to the end. ‘It’s butcher’s work to-day, and nothing else, General,’ says the victor to me as he withdrew his weapon. No, I have learnt nothing from the foe. My informants are my own spies, who tell me that Kamal-ud-din, with his ten thousand followers, had not come up. More and more do I rejoice that I took the risk presented to me. I own I was tempted to hold off for a while this morning, and let my artillery play upon the enemy’s position before attempting the attack. What would have been the result? Time, on which, unknown to me, all depended, would have been lost. If the Khans had not taken courage to endeavour to outflank me, Kamal-ud-din must have caught me in the rear. At least he will think twice before doing so now. They know this cock can fight.”
“Ah, but tell me,” cried Eveleen, rather maladroitly—it was the suggestion of loss of time that had been the connecting link in her mind, “what has happened Colonel Bayard? Did you meet him at all?”
“He has not come in yet, but he had some distance to march. I wished over and over again I had his two hundred sepoys, and especially the European officers, with me, but he can quite well claim that the smoke he raised alarmed the enemy, and prevented their making off in that direction.” Sir Henry spoke in measured tones, but in the minds of all present was the thought of Colonel Bayard’s unceasing efforts to bring about further delay, and the disaster they might have caused. The General spoke again in his ordinary voice.
“But without information from Bayard, or even my spies, I can see with my own eyes that the enemy are by no means vanished away. There are large bodies of ’em hanging about still in a highly suspicious manner—ready, no doubt, to fall on our flanks should we attempt a night march, or to harass us in any other respect. But they will find no opportunity. I can’t order the cavalry to disperse ’em, for I have not enough, and those I have are worn out with to-day’s exertions, and I have work for ’em to-morrow; but if they venture to attack us, I think they’ll have a hard nut to crack. Tell me, ma’am, do you remark any peculiar feature about this camp?”
“Only that it seems smaller—more compact; and there are fewer natives about—more soldiers,” said Eveleen hesitatingly. Sir Harry laughed triumphantly.
“Aha, Ambrose! your good lady has a sharp eye. Yes, ma’am; from this night’s bivouac the camp-followers are excluded. Their numbers and their lack of discipline would embarrass any force—have ruined many, in Ethiopia and elsewhere. The moment an attack is delivered the terror-stricken multitude, with cries of panic, seek the opportunity to escape, urging before them their animals, often their sole possession. The disorderly mass, rushing upon the troops, bursts through the ranks, and leaves an opening of which the enemy is waiting to take advantage. But to-night we are formed in square, and the camp-followers are outside at a convenient distance, while the baggage, as you see, is in the centre. Should an alarm be raised, and the followers run in upon the square, the soldiers are warned to fire upon them and the enemy alike. More bloodshed—eh? Believe me, it ain’t by any desire of mine, but I must safeguard the lives of my troops. As I rode over the field just now, and beheld the heaps of dead, I said to myself, ‘Am I guilty of these horrid scenes?’ but my conscience refused to reproach me.”
“And well it might, General!” said Brian heartily. “Is there one of us here hasn’t heard it said over and over again, ‘The General’s the only officer in the force that don’t wish for a fight’?”
“Because I have seen battles before now—such as you young fellows hardly dream of—and know their full horrors. Well, you will all justify me, when I am dead and gone. Gentlemen, I am indebted to you for your services to-day, and you won’t find me forgetful. To-morrow I shall ask you, it may be, for others even more arduous. I send off a squadron at dawn to demand the surrender of Qadirabad on pain of being stormed, while we face about to deal with Kamal-ud-din when he comes up—if he comes up, perhaps I should say.”