The Path to Honour

by Sydney C. Grier

"It is; and if you want it stronger, I'll say that I would sooner believe it." Charteris emerged from the tent as he spoke and looked keenly at his subordinate. "My dear fellow, your nerves are all to pieces. Steady, steady! This is going to be one of the worst days you ever had, and I mean you to come out of it with credit. Take a couple of orderlies to keep guard, and go down and get a good swim. If you feel inclined for a snooze afterwards, take an hour or two with my blessing. I will be responsible for this mighty array meanwhile. No, I really mean it. Be off with you!"

Slightly ashamed, Warner obeyed, and Charteris rode through the Darwani bivouac, and backed up the zamburaks with a line of musketmen. Passing on to where the Granthis had slept, he found them, as Warner had said, standing to their arms, but there was evident to his eye a certain amount of hesitation, as though his most recent precaution was not entirely to their liking. Without betraying any suspicion, he rode straight up to Bishen Ram, the Sirdar, and complimented him upon the alertness of his men.

"My Darwanis I must rouse, keen fighters though they are," he said, "but I find my Granthis in arms before the order is even issued. Well for the commander who has such men under him! And why are we so brave to-day, Sirdar-ji?"

He indicated the bracelets upon the sinewy arms, and was aware of a savage grin, instantly repressed, upon the faces of the men nearest at hand. Bishen Ram replied without the slightest embarrassment. "It appears to your honour's servants that to-day there will be a fight to the death, and it is the custom of my unworthy house to meet death clad as beseems a gentleman."

"A good custom indeed! and no ornament could better become a loyal soldier," said Charteris, with just sufficient meaning in his voice to leave the traitors uncertain whether he had penetrated their designs or not. He took advantage of their uncertainty to ride back in safety, knowing that he was in most danger when he had his back to them, and reached his tent unharmed, but persuaded of the critical nature of the situation. The treachery of the Granthis, whether actual or only potential, practically neutralised the powers of the rest of his force. If he ordered them to advance, they would promptly fraternise with the foe, if he kept them in reserve, they would fall upon his rear, and if he led the whole line into battle, they would turn their arms against their comrades. A day of inglorious waiting, with one half of his force—for the better training of the Granthis compensated for the smallness of their numbers—in arms against the other half, until either Chand Singh came on in overwhelming strength or Gerrard appeared, seemed to lie before him.

And so it turned out. Throughout the sultry hours he held his position, not daring to move his men save to drive back tentative advances on the part of the enemy, which he knew were designed to cover the movements of their artillery. He could not press his attack home, far less penetrate to the guns, and the range of his musketry would of course be hopelessly inadequate when Chand Singh chose to begin to pound him from a distance. He did choose at last, about half-way through the day, and to the tortures of inaction were added the lively reproaches of the force. Lying down to be a target for artillery fire was not an exercise that commended itself to the native mind, and Charteris became the unwilling centre of a group of protesting Granthis and Darwanis, who had each of them his special plan for making the day more interesting, and plucked at the European's sleeve when they were tired of shrieking into his ears. It was with a certain grim pleasure that he received the remonstrances of the Granthis, whose plans must all have been disarranged by his unexpected immobility. Chand Singh's cannon-balls fell as impartially among them as among their fellows, perhaps as a gentle hint that if they were going to change sides they might as well do it at once, but the distance that separated the armies was sufficient to account for a good many of them if they were exposed to Charteris's fire. Yes, the Granthis deserved all they got, but his heart bled for his Darwanis. Less fitted, both by nature and training, for passive endurance, they could not understand his inertness. "Sahib, can you expect us to endure this?" they cried reproachfully, as the round-shot crashed among them. "We are here to die, but let us die fighting, not crouching on the ground!"

Not until four o'clock was he able to seem to listen to their appeals, and this was only because Chand Singh, apparently emboldened by the passivity of his foe, deliberately advanced four guns to a spot little beyond the reach of their musketry, and began to try the range. Charteris detected at once the bait which was to draw him from his position and give the Granthis their long-sought opportunity, and set his teeth hard. The line should not advance. Turning his back on Bishen Ram, whose protests were very nearly becoming threats, he called up the heads of two Darwani clans, of late the fiercest and most troublesome of his robber-vassals.

"You are willing to ride to death, brothers?"

A great shout answered him. "Into hell itself, sahib!"

"I knew it. But are you willing to turn back half-way, and return?"