that was necessary was for him to hold Rangoon. It was not his fault that the Burmans hadn't flocked to his support. If the commander-in-chief wished him to take Ava against such opposition, then he would have to supply him with the means to do so. And yet, the taking of Ava in such very trying circumstances -against the odds – would surely be his making? 'He intends awaiting a general attack for a week or so. He will certainly want the support of your guns. And tomorrow he is going to lead an assault on one of the stockades.' 'And do you go with him?'
'Yes. He intends that I should write the despatch.'
'I've a mind to come with you, but I've called my captains aboard.'
Hervey smiled. 'There'll be more opportunities, I assure you. The general is determined to have the garrison as active as possible while he waits.' Peto helped his guest to a fair portion of fish. 'Bekti. The best you'll ever taste. Caught this morning and brought upriver by Diana. What a boon she is.'
Hervey had seen steam on water before, first in a boat no bigger than Liffey's cutter on the Blackwater river in Ireland, and then the barge that had towed their transports steadily upstream on the St Lawrence, six winters ago. But nothing like Diana. Diana was a gunship, her ports painted Nelson-style, and her smokestack half as high as Liffey's mainmast. 'The baby figure of things to come, do you think?'
'Of some things, perhaps. But Diana could never stand off in a fight. A twelve-pounder would smash her paddles to pieces. I can't risk her in the van too long if the river narrows and the forts get her range.'
Hervey tried his fish. 'I don't know whether it's because I've not had a spoonful of anything half-decent in a week, but this I agree is uncommonly good.'
Peto looked pleased. He drained his glass and let Flowerdew refill it. Then he leaned back in his chair. 'Let us speak of agreeable things for a time. I never told you my news, did I? It is signed and sealed and I had a note of it only yesterday.'
Hervey indulged his friend by laying down his fork and sitting back to receive the evidently happy intelligence. 'I have bought an estate near my father's living.' cAn estate, indeed,' said Hervey, as impressed as he was surprised.
'Nothing on any grand scale. And the house shall need attention. But it has a good park, and is but a short drive from the sea.'
Hervey wondered why a man who so much disdained being ashore should take such a course. cDo you plan going on half pay?'
'It will come to it, Hervey; it will come to it. I have a tidy sum invested in Berry's cellars, and another in two- per-cents, but I have a notion of something a shade more… substantial.'
Hervey smiled. 'Then you are not contemplating matrimony?'
Peto raised his glass and took a very urbane sip. 'A man in his right mind who contemplates matrimony will never embark upon it, Hervey. In any case, a house has no need of a mistress – only a keeper.' Hervey said nothing.
Peto realized the import. 'Oh, my dear fellow: I am so dreadfully sorry. I-'
Hervey smiled and shook his head. 'Think nothing of it. I'll take another glass of your hock, and drink to your arrangements in Norfolk.' Peto cursed himself for being the fool. Corporal Wainwright came to Hervey's quarters before first light with a canteen of tea, and returned shortly afterwards with hot water. Their exchanges were few. 'It's raining, sir.'
Hervey wondered at the need of this news, supposing that the hammering on the roof was the same that had been for the last fortnight.
'And the guard says it's been raining all night, sir.'
This much was perhaps of some moment, since the going would clearly be of the heaviest, perhaps even preventing the general from taking the field piece. Hervey sighed to himself at the thought of another affair of the bayonet. The wretched infantry – no better served now by the Board of Ordnance than if they had been with Marlborough a century past. For ten years – more – he, Hervey, had had a carbine that would fire in the worst of weather, yet the Ordnance showed not the least sign of interest. The notion of a percussion cap when a piece of flint would do seemed to the board an affront to economy. And little wonder if its members were as fat-headed as Campbell.
Hervey sighed again as he drank the sweet tea in satisfying gulps. Perseverance – that was the soldier's virtue. It was both duty and consolation. 'Corporal Wainwright, I give you leave to remain here and keep things dry.'
'And I decline it, sir, if you please. Thanking you for the consideration, that is, sir.'
Hervey smiled. 'It was not entirely for your welfare, Corporal Wainwright. I had a thought to my own comfort on return!' 'I'll engage one of the sepoys, sir.'
Hervey smiled again as he rose to his toilet. 'It's not what I said it would be, Corporal Wainwright, is it? Hardly the dashing campaign, with gold to fill the pockets.'
Corporal Wainwright pulled the thatch from Hervey's boots and began to rub up the blacking while Hervey began lathering his shaving brush. 'I don't hold with stealing, sir, and it seems to me, from what I've heard, that that's all it amounts to half the time. Prize money's a different thing. But plundering a place is no better than thieving.'
'Your sensibility does you credit, Corporal Wainwright. The duke himself would applaud it.' Hervey spoke his words carefully, but only because he had regard to the razor's edge. 'Pistols sir? I'm taking mine.'
'I suppose so. It is conceivable the rain will cease.'
'What I should like to know, sir, is how rain stays up in the sky before it begins to fall.'
Hervey held the razor still. 'You know, I have never given it a thought. Nor, indeed, do I recall anyone else doing so. I suppose there is an answer.' He resumed his shaving.
'I'll bind the oilskin extra-tight, sir. Wherever this rain's coming from, there doesn't look to be any shortage.'
In a few minutes more, Hervey was finished. He dressed quickly, thinking the while of the rain question. 'The rain is in the clouds. That much is obvious.'
Yet that was only a very partial answer (consistent with his knowledge of natural history). The rain outside descended as a solid sheet of water -the noise on the roof was, if anything, louder than when he woke – yet how did it rise to the height of the clouds in the first place, and then stay aloft?
'Steam. Steam rises' he said, pulling on his boots. 'That Diana works that way, I think.'
Corporal Wainwright said nothing, content instead to listen to the emerging theory.
'A great deal of this rain must have begun as steam.'
But then why should it now fall as rain? And where did all the steam come from in the first instance?
'For the rest I must ask Commodore Peto. The weather is his business. For us it is just weather, I fear.' He fastened closed his tunic. It had become a poor affair with a daily soaking this past month. Wainwright took away the bowl of water.
Hervey looked out, observed the downpour and put off his visit to the latrines until after breakfast.
He sat down at his desk-cum-table still turning over the rain question in his mind. Peto would surely know a great deal more – all there was to know, probably. But what opportunity he would have to pose his query in the coming weeks, he couldn't tell. The commodore had declared he would be taking Liffey and two of the brigs out to blow good sea air through her decks and give the hands practice with canvas again.
Wainwright was soon back with Hervey's breakfast – excellent coffee (he had been careful to lay in a store of that before leaving Calcutta) and a very indifferent gruel. Hervey thanked his luck for the supper of bekti the night before, and for the lump of salt pork that Peto had pressed on him to bring ashore. It would be their ration today, for the salt beef had now gone, and it was biscuit only again.
In half an hour the bugle summoned him -'general parade'. He put on his shako, fastened his swordbelt and drew on his gloves. He looked at the pistols, wondering. He picked up both and pushed them into his belt: if the rain did stop, he'd feel undressed without them. He wished he'd brought his carbine, but it had seemed the last thing he would need when he joined the general's staff in Calcutta. The sortie paraded outside the north gate. They were six companies, three British and three native, together with two field pieces – a six-pounder and a howitzer – some five hundred men in all, and another fifty dhoolie-bearers. They gave an impression of unity by their red coats, except for the artillerymen, who wore blue, but close to they were rather more disparate than a Calcutta inspecting officer would have been used to. It was but a fortnight since the landing, and already some of the troops had a ragged appearance which spoke of their exertions and the flimsiness of their uniforms, as well as the lack of supply. For the
