"So that's why they are coming on!" said Charteris. "Who's this?" The newcomer was a Habshiabadi in gorgeous raiment, who announced to Gerrard that his Excellency Dilir Jang Bahadar sent his salaams, and with Jirad Sahib's permission, would lead his master's forces into battle.
"With all my heart," said Gerrard, and as the man moved off he observed to Charteris, "This will leave me free to fight the guns for you, Bob, if you wish it. Funny to think of that old sinner Desdichado as fired with martial ardour, ain't it? Suppose he thinks it looks as if it ought to be a soft job, but I only hope he'll be as good as his word, for I hear that in the last fight before I joined you, when I came on with the guns and left him in command, he spent the time under a tree with a case-bottle of arrack, and the troops looked after themselves."
"You must supersede him promptly if he shows any signs of hanging back to-day. But I'm uncommon glad to have the guns in your hands, old boy, even if it's only at the outset. Hal, if we break up Sher Singh's army to-day, they must send us our siege artillery and let us finish this job—they must."
"I only wish they had sent it already—or even given the order. The news of that would have been enough. Do you like the look of your Granthis, Bob?"
"About as little as you do. One could wish that our Mr James had shown his affection in any other way than by sending us another Granthi regiment, but it was impossible to refuse it. It's one comfort that with your fellows we are more than a match for them now if they turn rusty, and by posting them on the right we can get them in flank with our whole line. You think we can't do better with the guns than keep them where they are until we advance? All right, then. Warner will lead the Darwanis, and the doctor will gallop for us."
The surgeon, who had been sent on by James Antony with the reinforcements, was young and active, and having at present no patients, since the native troops scouted him in favour of their own hakims, was ready to take any part in the fighting, from heading a cavalry charge to bringing up ammunition, but found himself relegated to the post of galloper. He took up his position behind Charteris in the centre, Warner and General Desdichado commanding the nearer troops on either hand, while Gerrard with the guns, and Bishen Ram with the two Granthi regiments, occupied the extreme left and right respectively, the whole position being roughly crescent-shaped. Nothing but utter madness, it seemed, could lead an army into the hollow it commanded, and Charteris sent out scouts to see whether Sher Singh's advance was not a blind, intended to mask a flank attack. But the scouts returned periodically to say that there was no sign of any other movement than the one in front, and as the enemy came closer, it was clear that their whole force was in the field. Gerrard allowed them to approach until they were well within the horns of the crescent, then, when with a final crash of music they quickened their step to charge up the low hill in the centre, his guns opened with tremendous effect. But even the cannonade seemed to produce little diminution in Sher Singh's crowded ranks, and they rolled on up the hill as though they would overwhelm the defenders by sheer weight of numbers. Gerrard, rushing from gun to gun to point each in turn, lest the gunners in their excitement should fire upon Charteris's position, urged his men on to load and fire with something like desperation. The enemy were not suffering as they should, beneath the fire of his guns on the one hand and the musketry of the two Granthi regiments on the other. A sudden suspicion seized him, and he looked across through the smoke at the opposite horn of the crescent. But no; it was dotted with white puffs. Bishen Ram's men were firing with admirable precision and coolness, but somehow their shots did not seem to take effect. The reason occurred to Gerrard suddenly; they were firing with powder only. Dearly would he have liked to plant a shell or two among the treacherous scoundrels, but just now he could not spare the time. He redoubled his efforts, and at last his half-incredulous eyes discerned between the smoke-clouds that the tide was rolling back from the centre. Charteris was visible for a moment, standing in his stirrups and waving his cap vigorously, and Gerrard fired once or twice into the sullenly retreating Agpuris, to dissuade them gently from rallying and facing the hill again. But presently the doctor arrived in hot haste, with orders to him to hold his fire for the present, since Charteris meant to assail the enemy with successive charges of cavalry. Almost before the smoke had cleared away there was the rush of a torrent of men and horses down the hill, and the confused mob of Agpuris was cloven as though by a wedge. The point of the wedge was a slender figure on a black horse, an oddly shaped cloth, half brown and half white, streaming behind it like a veil. The Rani was heading the avengers of her son.
There was no time to watch the prowess of the Rajputs and Rukn-ud-din's
Moslems, for Warner came galloping up.
"I am to fight your guns, Gerrard; you are wanted to lead the Habshiabadis. Their precious general took care to bring something with him to keep his courage up, and when we nearly lost the hill just now, I suppose he took too much of it. At any rate, he's quite incapable, and his men are demanding to go on alone."
Gerrard mounted his horse and galloped back to where Charteris, sword in hand, was riding slowly up and down in front of the ranks of the eager Habshiabadis, pressing back with the flat any man who pushed forward. He turned sharply to Gerrard.
"Look here, Hal; the Rani is going for vengeance, not victory—thinking of nothing but cutting through to Sher Singh's elephant. Her men will be swallowed up, unless you can make a diversion. Break the enemy up a bit, and I'll bring the Darwanis down and finish 'em."