silver statuette of a mounted officer of the regiment, a wedding present executed by one of the best native silversmiths in Hindoostan.
'Thank you, Eustace. Thank you very much indeed.' He nodded to his orderly, who advanced on him with a small box. 'And I should like you to have this, just a little token of my gratitude.'
A silver-mounted horn snuff mull – Joynson looked genuinely abashed. 'It is very handsome, Colonel. Thank you.'
'Well then. I will tell you what I know -which is only that which the brigadier has told me – and you may then tell me how little I know.' They all smiled. And then Sir Ivo began. It was more than an hour by the time Joynson had related the signal occurrences, incidents and events of the past year. Here and there Hervey added some detail or opinion, but it was largely the major's occasion, and one which admirably suited his eye for detail.
Sir Ivo was well pleased both by what he heard (on the whole) and by how Joynson related it. At length he smiled again, expressed himself ready to reassume command, and called for wine. 'One thing more I would hear about, though it is a curious interest only: how did Armstrong survive his entombment?'
Hervey inclined his head and raised an eyebrow as if to acknowledge the singularity of the ordeal. 'There was a duct which conveyed air to the end of the tunnel – which was itself of Armstrong's doing – and it seems that this was somehow close enough to ensure a sufficient quantity of air, even amid the debris of the roof. But how there remained sufficient air once we began to pull him free is unclear. Certainly, Armstrong has no recollection.'
'Well, let us not speculate on the science of it. But I am intrigued to know of his design.'
'The principle appears very simple, Colonel. The duct extends the length of the working, and about eighty yards in, just behind one of the siege battery earthworks, there is a narrow ventilation shaft -masked from the enemy, of course – and the tunnel is sealed by canvas, but which the duct passes through, just to the rear of the shaft. There is a fire at the foot of the shaft which draws air from the tunnel, and this in turn draws fresh air along the duct.'
'Most ingenious' said Sir Ivo. 'I wonder the engineers didn't think of it themselves.'
'Oh, Colonel Anburey, their brigadier, is full of praise for Armstrong,' said Joynson. 'And Combermere's made special mention in his orders.'
'Capital! Now, leave us, if you will, Hervey. I have one or two matters I would discuss with Eustace in private. And do be assured that I am most especially obliged for all you have done, too, in my absence.'
Hervey was gratified, if, like Joynson, a shade abashed. 'Honoured, Colonel.' He saluted and left them to the privacy of the orderly room.
'In truth I should have been lost without him on any number of occasions,' said Joynson when he was gone.
Sir Ivo nodded. 'I saw Combermere on the way up. He said he would have him for his staff. I think we might contemplate that when we return to Calcutta. It would be greatly to his advantage.' 'I agree.'
'Very well. Now, the storming parties you spoke of – the volunteers.' Joynson smiled. 'A very full manger.'
'And you'll draw the names in the usual fashion?' Joynson hesitated. 'I have had two representations.' 'Indeed?'
'Well, three indirectly. Rose for one, for obvious reasons.'
'I should be very much inclined to accept that, Eustace. He will feel it keenly that he should restore his honour in the breaches. It could only serve the regiment's esprit de corps.'
'The other is Hervey and his cornet, Green, who really is a most execrable tick. Hervey believes him to have shown cowardice on two occasions, which he cannot of course substantiate, and wants to determine his mettle.'
Sir Ivo's benign expression changed. 'Good God! Never did I think to hear we should have a coward in the mess again.' 'I fear so.'
'Then I am inclined to accept Green's bid. The fact that he's made one would indicate there might be some doubt as to his infamy.'
Joynson raised an eyebrow. 'We must hope so. However – I do not know this, officially, of course – but Hervey gave him no practicable option.' 'How so?' 'Better you do not know, Colonel.' Sir Ivo sighed. 'Why does Hervey have to go too? To bear witness, I suppose?' Joynson nodded.
'Very well. And there is a fourth representation, Eustace.' 'Indeed, Colonel?'
'Yes. I shall join one of the parties. I think it only proper, my having been absent so long.'
'No, Colonel, I protest. That would be most irregular. The brigadier would surely not allow it.'
Sir Ivo smiled. 'I've spoken with him already. Oh, I'm not going to play the subaltern thrusting for promotion. I'm happy to let Green or whoever else lead. I think it right, though, that I go into the trenches and watch, at least. And you can sit in front of the regiment, where you deserve to be.' He smiled again. 'In any case, Murray says there'll not be a thing for the brigade to do!' After boot and saddle next day, Hervey rode to Buldeo Singh's garden. He could only marvel at the difference between the Sixth's lines, with their comfortable order, and, not a mile away, the ant-like activity of the siege park, battery and earthworks. Indeed, it reminded him of nothing so much as a schoolboy's picture again – the building of the pyramids – so many were the brown-skinned labourers and so endless seemed the task.
He imagined that his purpose in going there was, however, an utterly vain thing. He had tried to persuade Armstrong that, his method proved, there was no purpose to his remaining there. To which Armstrong had replied that he was remaining for precisely the reason that Hervey himself would have stayed had the latter found himself in the same circumstances. Hervey had even spoken with Brigadier Anburey, but the chief engineer had only reinforced Armstrong's request, applauding the serjeant-major's sentiment but, further, stating that Armstrong was of the utmost material assistance. Hervey had reluctantly conceded, therefore, but hoped this morning to hear when his serjeant-major's work might eventually be at an end.
'Collins is standing your duties well,' Hervey now assured Armstrong, as they sat drinking what Johnson called a bad-mashing of tea – a drink which in any circumstances but those they now found themselves in, with periodic explosions from the siege guns and the returning cannonade whistling and buzzing overhead, would have been undrinkable. 'Are they about much?'
'No. For the last week there's been only one troop at a time under saddle. We had to have bending yesterday to keep them keen. Sir Ivo has decided to inspect the entire regiment. That at least will be something for them to work to.' 'Ay. Not a bad move.' 'He intends coming down here.'
'He's been missing the smell of powder, has he?'
'I suspect so. He's going with one of the storming parties into the trenches.' Armstrong's face showed surprise. 'And so am I.'
'Good. I've cause to be there, too, then. I'd like to see what this 'ere tunnel does.'
'That's the reason I'm here now – to say that as soon as it's finished I want you back with the troop. The only reason I shall be in the trenches is Cornet Green, as you might imagine. There's no call for anyone else. All it will take is one lucky shell and we'll both be under the surgeon's knife. I'm not having you risk more than you have already.'
'Aw, there's not likely to be a shell – any more than anywhere else.'
Hervey smiled wryly. 'Geordie, I am not going to be the one who has to explain to Caithlin why you're peppered with shrapnel after being buried alive. Have some compassion!'
Armstrong took another gulp of the tea, grimaced, and started rummaging in his small pack. 'Lord knows I've no ache for rum at this time of a morning, but…' He poured some into Hervey's mug and then his own. 'Just as you say, sir.'
Hervey did not like the tone, for it suggested the matter was not concluded, though he knew there was little enough point pressing it. 'How much further have you to dig?'
'It's gone slower than I thought since the collapse; fifty or sixty yards – three days, four at the most. Do you know when Lord Combermere's planning on an assault?'
'No, I don't. But we all know it can't be long. There's a full muster any day now, I hear.'
'Brigadier Anburey was saying the guns have brought down the major part of yon bastion's facing, but the heart of it's too solid an affair. He reckons they must have weakened it, though. He intends putting ten thousand pounds of powder under it.' 'Great God!'
'That's why I'd a mind to see it. But believe you me, sir, I've no intention of feeling it!' The week following passed in a curious mix of tedium and fever for the army of Bhurtpore. The tunnel – or rather Armstrong's tunnel,
