"Better ride round the hill and come at them from a different direction," suggested Gerrard.
"All right. I'll support you," and as Gerrard led the disgusted and protesting Habshiabad cavalry away from the fight, Charteris sent off the doctor to Bishen Ram, whose soldiers had remained inactive since they had been ordered to cease firing for fear of hitting the Rani's horsemen. Now they were to advance and attack the portion of Sher Singh's troops immediately below them, thus creating a diversion and distracting attention from the direction in which Gerrard would make his charge. Charteris was watching the mêlée in the plain rather than the doctor's progress, but presently an exclamation from his Darwanis made him look round. The Granthis had risen to their feet, and before the doctor could give his message, saluted him with a volley. He turned his horse and rode back, pursued by a dropping fire, some of the bullets falling among the Darwanis, to their intense excitement.
"They fired at me!" he gasped indignantly. "A bullet went through my hat, and another grazed my leg. My horse is hit, too."
"Well, don't be so precious injured about it," said Charteris. "Most men would think they were uncommon lucky to escape from the fire of two regiments with nothing worse. When you have finished counting your bruises, just ride to Warner, and tell him to lay every gun he has dead on the Granthis. If they attempt to fire or to move down towards Sher Singh, he is to fire upon them. If they persist, let him mow them down without mercy—plug into them with grape and canister and everything he's got."
The doctor rode away, and Charteris turned his attention again to the field, where the Rani, supported by a lessening phalanx of her men, was steadily cutting her way towards Sher Singh. Watching through his glass, the Englishman saw a movement in the gilded howdah of the Rajah's elephant, saw that a man in gleaming crimson and a golden turban was taking careful aim with a long matchlock. Charteris had barely time to remember the tale of Sher Singh's skill in shooting which he had heard at Adamkot before the Rani flung up her arms and fell from her horse into the turmoil seething round her. The man in the howdah received a second gun from an attendant, and turned in another direction, that in which Gerrard was just appearing at the head of the Habshiabadis. Charteris shouted a useless warning, realising as the words left his lips that his voice could never carry across the din of battle, but even while he shouted, Gerrard's sword flew from his hand and he pitched forward on his horse's neck. More Charteris could not see, for the Granthis under Bishen Ram uttered a yell of triumph and sprang forward to hurl themselves into the strife, but Warner was ready for them, and a shell bursting in front of their line gave them pause. Another advance, another shell, and then a shower of grape, adroitly directed at a stream of men trying to edge their way down into the plain by a side-path, and after a half-hearted volley directed at the guns over the heads of the fighters below, the Granthis gave up their attempt to move. It was now or never, for the Habshiabadis were wavering, evidently uncertain whether to stay and succour Gerrard or to continue their charge. Charteris saw that if success was to be attained he must risk every man he had, and pausing only to send the doctor to tell Warner again to keep the Granthis back at all costs, he hurled himself and his eager Darwanis into the fray. The unsupported guns and the disaffected regiments on the hill were the only portions of his force left outside the mêlée. Before this desperate expedient Sher Singh's spirit quailed. He left his elephant, and mounting a horse, spurred out of the battle towards Agpur. Disgusted by his disappearance, his men held out for a while, but Charteris and his wild horsemen were riding them down on one side, and the rallied Habshiabadis on the other, and they were without a leader. They broke at last, and made for Agpur in headlong flight, pursued so closely by the Darwanis that Warner durst not fire upon them. Charteris was chasing his own men now, turning them back with praise and promises, threats and curses, seizing one man by the arm and another by the bridle, in deadly fear that they would carry the pursuit too far, and be caught when Sher Singh's men turned at bay. With the assistance of their own chiefs, he succeeded at last in shepherding back all but a few who had gone too far to be reached, and was met as he returned by a deputation of Granthis, very stiff and austere in wounded dignity, demanding why they had not been allowed to take part in the fight, and why Warner Sahib had turned his guns on them.
Never was there so innocent and so deeply injured a body of men. Asked why they had fired at the doctor, they replied promptly that they thought he was ordering them to retire from the position they held, when they were anxious only to throw themselves upon Sher Singh's flank and cut off his retreat, as the advance prevented by Warner could witness. Charteris declined to take their grievances too seriously. Their behaviour had been most suspicious, and he was fairly certain that if Sher Singh had shown signs of winning they would have joined him at once, but it was possible that Gerrard held a different opinion, and he wished to consult him before taking any definite step. Promising to consider their protest and give them an answer on the morrow, he rode on to look for his friend, but before he could reach the spot where he had fallen, he was stopped by a little procession of sorely wounded Rajputs, carrying on a litter of crossed spears a body covered with a cloak. Rukn-ud-din and several of his men, not one unwounded, followed, and Charteris saluted as he met them.
"You carry her Highness's body to the burning?" he asked.
"Aye, sahib," answered the leader of the Rajputs, the Rani's cousin. "Daughter and wife and mother of kings, she has died as a king should die, and the burning of a king shall be made for her. But I beseech your honour to be witness to a certain thing." He unwrapped from his arm the discoloured cloth, dipped in her son's blood, which the Rani had worn when she left Agpur to demand vengeance, and divided it lengthwise with his sword. "Half of this I will take, and the other shall be borne by Komadan Rukn-ud-din, who has been faithful to his lord and his lord's mother, and to the salt he has eaten. As the dead bore it, so will we bear it, until the blood of Kharrak Singh can be blotted out in the blood of him who slew him."
Rukn-ud-din limped forward and received the ghastly trophy, and Charteris saluted again and passed on. The fight had raged hotly where Gerrard had fallen, and it was some time before they found him. The doctor did what he could for him on the spot, and then advised his being taken at once to the camp, where Sher Singh's bullet might be extracted, and his other injuries properly treated. His friend's insensibility alarmed Charteris almost more than the actual wounds, and he gave his horse to the groom, and walked beside the bearers, trying to induce them to keep step, and not jar the patient unnecessarily. It was therefore an unfortunate moment for a large and frowsy—he would almost have said snuffy—figure to lurch forward and clasp him in an expansive embrace.
"Eh, man, that was a gran' fight, yon!" it hiccoughed, then relapsed into dignity and Hindustani. "What a battle we have had, sahib! What a victory we have won!"