Part 56 (1/2)

But Nicholson knew his position sure, so he left night to finish the rout, and, with his men, bivouacked without food or cover among the marshes; for it was too dark to get the baggage over the ford. Yet the troops were ready to start at daybreak for an eighteen miles tramp back to the Ridge again. There was no talk of exhaustion now, as at Budli-ke-serai; so just thirty-six hours after they started, that is, just one hour for every mile of mora.s.s and none for the fight, they startled the Ridge by marching in again and clamoring for food! But Nicholson was in a towering temper. He had found that another brigade had been lurking behind the ca.n.a.l, and that if he had had decent information he might have smashed it also, on his way home.

”He hadn't even a guide that he didn't pick up himself,” commented Major Erlton angrily. ”By George! how those n.i.g.g.e.rs cave in to him!

And his political information was all rot. If the General had obeyed instructions he would have been kicking his heels at Bahadagurh still.”

”We heard you at it about two o'clock,” said a new listener. ”I suppose it was a night attack--risky business rather.”

Herbert Erlton burst into a laugh; but the elation on his face had a pathetic tenderness in it. ”That was the bridge, I expect. _He_ blew it up before starting. _He_ sat on it till then. Besides there were the wagons and tumbrils and things. _He_ told Tombs to blow them up, too, for of course _he_ had to bring the guns back, and _he_ couldn't shove the lot.”

As he pa.s.sed on some of his listeners smiled.

”It's a case of possession,” said one to his neighbor.

”Pardon me,” said another, who had known the Major for years. ”It's a case of casting out. I wonder----” The speaker paused and shrugged his shoulders.

”Did you hear his name had gone up for the V. C.?” began his companion.

”Gone up! My dear fellow! It might have gone up fifty times over. But it isn't his pluck that I wonder at; it is his steadiness. He never s.h.i.+rks the little things. It is almost as if he had found a conscience.”

Perhaps he had. He was cheerful enough to have had the testimony of a good one, as, in pa.s.sing, he looked in on Jim Douglas and met his congratulations.

”Bad s.h.i.+lling!” replied the Major, beautifully unconscious. ”So you've heard--and--h.e.l.lo! what's up?” For Jim Douglas was busy getting into disguise.

”That old scoundrel Tiddu came into camp with the news an hour ago,”

said the latter, whose face was by no means cheerful. ”He was out carrying grain--saw the fugitives, and came in here, hoping for backsheesh, I believe. But”--Jim Douglas looked round rapidly at the Major--”I'm awfully afraid, Erlton, that he has not been in Delhi, to speak of, since I left. And I was relying on him for news----”

”There isn't any--is there?” broke in Major Erlton with a queer hush in his voice.

”None. But there may be. So I'm off at once. I couldn't have a better chance. The villain says the sepoys are slipping in on the sly in hundreds; for the Palace folk, or at least the King, thinks the troops are still engaged, and is sending out reinforcements. So I shall have no trouble in getting through the gates.”

Major Erlton, radiant, splashed from head to foot, covered at once with mud and glory, looked at the man opposite him with a curious deliberation.

”I don't see why you should go at all,” he said slowly. ”I wouldn't, if I--I mean I would rather you didn't.”

”Why?” The question came sharply.

”Do you want the truth?” asked Herbert Erlton with a sudden frown.

”Certainly.”

”Then I'll tell it, Mr. Greyman--I mean Douglas--I--I'm grateful, but--d----n me, sir, if--if I want to be more so! I--I gave you my chance once--like a fool; for I might have saved her----”

The hard handsome face was all broken up with pa.s.sionate regret, and the pity of it kept Jim Douglas silent for a moment. For he understood it.

”You might,” he said at last. ”But I don't interfere with you here.

You can't save her--your wife, I mean--and if I fail you can always----”

”There is no need to tell me what to do then,” interrupted Major Erlton grimly. ”I'll do it without your help.”

He turned on his heel, then paused. ”It isn't that I'm ungrateful,” he repeated, almost with an appeal in his voice. ”And I don't mean to be offensive; only you and I can't----”