A Call to Arms

turned again to his former commander of cavalry. ‘A word with you, Combermere, before Bathurst leaves.’

‘Of course, Duke,’ said Lord Combermere, and then, holding out his hand, ‘Good fortune to you, Hervey!’

When they had turned, Hervey placed his coffee cup on a side table and made to leave, but he felt a tap on his shoulder.

‘You did not keep your word, Captain Hervey.’

He turned to find Lady Katherine. ‘Oh … I am sorry, madam. We were overlong in the dining room, I fear. I was about to leave.’

‘You do not have to leave London this minute, do you?’

‘No, madam, but it has been a long day, and—’

‘Of course. I would not detain you, Captain Hervey. I know how hard is an officer’s day in service. Why do not you accompany me in the park tomorrow? I ride most days there. You will find it most invigorating.’

‘I. I did not bring a horse, Lady Katherine.’

‘Then I can certainly provide you with one. Where are you staying?’

Hervey saw there was no way out of it save by the severest measures. But Lady Katherine’s eyes twinkled very appealingly, and her face had a most tempting blush. ‘The United Service Club, ma’am.’

‘I shall have one of my grooms there at eleven, Captain Hervey. And you shall join me for luncheon afterwards. Oh, and you must call me Kat.’

*

Hervey did not sleep well that night. His pleasure in Lady Katherine’s eyes, her entire form indeed, was intense, for they were charms which even prodigious effort could not have ignored. And then in the middle hours, when the wine had begun to lose its effect, he had been visited by remorse in succumbing to her attractions. Repose came only after four, but he was woken as arranged at seven, whereupon he rose and penned a letter to Lady Katherine explaining that duty would prevent his keeping their luncheon appointment (he considered that riding in the park need have no improper tendency), and craving that she would forgive him. He called a steward to have an express boy run with the letter to Holland Park, then he shaved and ate breakfast before walking to Mr Hatchard’s bookshop in Piccadilly to buy the new edition of Clator’s Farriery. He was greatly discomposed when he learned that it would cost him twelve shillings, and he returned to his club, to meet Lady Katherine’s groom, in even poorer spirits than in which he had left.

When he took the post to Tilbury that evening he thanked God that his duty called him away, for such had been his pleasure in Lady Katherine Greville’s company in the park that he was glad of not being put further to the test. She had, however, extracted a promise from him to write to her with a description of Calcutta, and that, he now saw, was indeed a perilous pledge.

PART TWO. INDIA

The European Power which is now established in India is, properly speaking, supported neither by physical force nor by moral influence. It is a piece of huge, complicated machinery, moved by springs which have been arbitrarily adapted to it. Under the supremacy of the Brahmins the people of India hated their government, while they cherished and respected their rulers; under the supremacy of Europeans they hate and despise their rulers from the bottom of their hearts, while they cherish and respect their government.

Abbe Dubois A Description of the Character, Manners and Customs of the People of India, and of their Institutions, Religious and Civil, 1810

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE BAY OF BENGAL

Calcutta, six months later

THE CALCUTTA JOURNAL

Yesterday there were received at Fort William Lieutenant-Colonel Sir Ivo Lankester and the officers of His Majesty’s Sixth Light Dragoons, who are to augment the Company’s Bengal establishment, and in their honour there was given a fete-champetre by the Governor-General and Lady Hastings. The gardens were brilliantly illuminated with many thousands of coloured lamps; an eminent operator in fireworks had been brought from Lucknow to display his talents; the company appeared in fancy dresses, those that chose it wore masks. Ranges of tents were fixed in different parts of the garden, wherein tables were laid covered with all the dainties the best French cooks could produce, for the accommodation of three hundred persons, besides which every room in the Fort was stored with refreshments of every sort and kind; different bands of martial music were stationed in several parts of the gardens, and also in the house, with appropriate and distinct performers for the dancers. The road approaching the Fort was for the last mile lighted up with a double row of lamps on each side, making every object as clear as day. In short, nothing could exceed the splendour of the preparations. And this being the first such occasion after the conclusion of the Thirty Days of official mourning for His Late Majesty’s passing, many were the opportunities taken to drink to the long life and health of His Majesty King George the Fourth.

For Hervey, however, nothing could have made the evening more agreeable than the inclusion of two particular names in the Governor-General’s list of guests. He had been able to call on them the afternoon before, but only for a short time, so active were his duties with horses and men alike. A card had awaited him at the regimental agents in the city, delivered promptly with letters from home brought by the overland route through Alexandria. ‘Mrs Eyre Somervile’ was engraved on pearl-white card, struck through by the pen with ‘Emma’ written below, and in the same neat round hand ‘wishes you would call on us at Number 3, Fort William on the earliest occasion.’

Almost the last letter Hervey had written from England had been to Eyre Somervile at Fort George, Madras, with the payment of a considerable premium so that it should go overland too. The card came as no surprise therefore, except in locating its sender in Calcutta, for the marriage of the Collector of Guntoor and Philip Lucie’s sister had long been a presumption in Madras. But it did not diminish Hervey’s delight at the early prospect of seeing them again. To both he owed, at the least, the preservation of his reputation; and very probably his life.

And now, the day after the fete-champetre, he was dining with them both as their sole guest, his duties done until two days following, and thus with an easy repose before him.

‘You are the toast of Council, Hervey,’ said Somervile, refilling his glass and passing the decanter to his wife. ‘Likely as not they’ll vote you half a lakh next week. It is a prodigious achievement.’

‘Five horses only!’ agreed Emma Somervile. ‘The native cavalry lost that many last summer in one day when the Hooghly was in spate.’

Hervey smiled with satisfaction. ‘We were fortunate in having a landing at the Cape. But the saving was in the arrangements aboard the transport. The captain was uncommonly obliging. There are half a dozen troopers with wounds and sprains, though. My own groom’s mare is still on the sick list.’

‘All the same, Hervey, to bring ashore so many fit horses is truly remarkable,’ said Somervile