“Nothing more?”
“Nothing more.” In Sir Harry’s voice there was no response to the dismay in Colonel Bayard’s. “And there will be no haggling, neither. They will find me as hard as iron. Why”—he smote his hand on the table,—“I can afford nothing else. For the sake of having Qadirabad behind me as a strong place to protect my wounded and baggage, I have entered on this game of brag, but had the enemy the slightest suspicion that it was brag, our goose would be cooked. What are those bodies of armed men doing hanging about on all sides of us—within cannon-shot, even? The city must be mine by noon, and then I will turn upon these Arabit stragglers, and make up Kamal-ud-din’s mind for him. With another couple of regiments of horse, I could disperse ’em in style; but the cavalry is knocked up by the battle and the long march before it, and the camels couldn’t drag the guns another mile. In half an hour the hospitals and the baggage-train will set forward gently towards Qadirabad, guarded by the cavalry at a walk, and I trust the enemy, not knowing our plight, will take the movement as evidence of my relentless determination. You’ll go with ’em, ma’am”—suddenly to Eveleen, who was listening eagerly,—“but you won’t be rid of us long. We have—er—a bit of tidying up to do here, and then the rest of the force will follow.”
“And occupy the Fort to-night, Sir Harry?”
“H’m—hardly, I think. We shall see.”
“I presume you will listen to nothing from me, General,” broke in Colonel Bayard anxiously; “but I can’t reconcile it with my conscience not to tell you that this is madness. The city is packed with Arabits armed to the teeth, devoted adherents of the Khans, on whose ruin you are determined. You propose to drive them to desperation——”
“Not listen to you!” exploded Sir Harry. “Pray, sir, how long is it since I listened to your repeated assurances that there were no armed men in the city save the personal servants of the Khans? You are singing to a different tune now. I have listened to you till you have nearly succeeded in making an end of us all. If my intention be madness, it is the calculated madness that stakes all upon a single throw, and wins. The Khans shall have no further consideration—I owe them none. My sole aim is the safety of my troops.”
“I see—I know,” sadly. “You must pardon my warmth, Sir Henry. The Khans have been the principal object of my consideration for so long—it is painful to me, you may guess, to see them overthrown. Be sure, sir, I shall venture no further criticism.”
“Nonsense, man! I shall invite your remarks, and you will give them, dozens of times in the next day or so, I make no doubt. But in this matter my mind is made up.”
“And glad I am to hear it!” murmured Eveleen under her breath, meeting a return glance of sympathy even from the well-trained eye of Richard. Lovable as was Colonel Bayard’s chivalrous forbearance towards the Khans, there were very few Europeans in Khemistan to whom it had not by this time become decidedly exasperating, and she left the breakfast-table in quite a happy frame of mind to pack up her few possessions. Her place in the line of march was duly appointed her—ahead of the hospital doolies, which again were followed by the baggage-animals, so as to escape the dust these kicked up,—and she exchanged a cheerful salutation with young Kenton as she passed him. Guarded by the cavalry ahead and on either flank, the column moved off—towards the long fortress on the hill, whose massive tower loomed above the intervening jungle-clad flats, and dominated the town on the slopes beneath it. Keen-eyed watchers on its ramparts might even have been able to trace the course of yesterday’s battle—be able now to discern what they read as the victor’s advance. The slow pace at which the cavalry moved, owing to the fatigue of their horses, must have seemed to the Khans and their followers the relentless deliberation of fate, for the Vakils who were on their way from the city with Captain Keeling and his flag of truce besought Sir Harry with anguish as soon as they beheld him to stop the march until he himself was present to control his troops. He sent a messenger after the convoy at once, and a halt was called, to the joy of both man and beast. The General’s colloquy with the Vakils was brief and businesslike, carrying conviction to their hearts, which could not conceive it possible that such demands could come from the commander of a weak tired force, already frightfully reduced from its original strength. To them the bent little man who emerged growling from the dirty tent hardly large enough to shelter him was the irresistible disposer of many legions, and when he had once cut short their elaborate compliments and lamentable pleading, they offered no protest against his hard terms. They would carry them back to their Highnesses, they said, and return.
“By noon, then!” snapped Sir Harry, with appalling ferocity. “Otherwise—— Well, I shall have buried my dead by that time, and my soldiers will have had their breakfast. Qadirabad would make a fine supper for them!”