cried off, though, when I saw Kavanaugh; he was got up like Sinbad the Sailor, with nigger minstrel eyes, hareem slippers, and a great sword and shield. I stopped dead in the doorway, whispering to Napier:
'My God, man, he won't fool a child! We'll have the bloody pandies running after us shouting, ‘Penny for Guy Fawkes!’ '
But he said reassuringly that it would be pretty dark, and Outram and the other officers agreed that Kavanaugh might just do. They were full of admiration for my get-up — which was my usual one of bazaar-ruffler — and Kavanaugh came up to me with absolute tears in his eyes and said I was the stoutest chap alive to stand by him in this. I nearly spat in his eye. The others were full of sallies about our appearance, and then Outram banded Kavanaugh the message for Campbell, biting on his cheroot and looking hard at us.
'I need not tell you,' says he, 'that it must never tall into enemy hands. That would be disaster for us all.'
Just to rub the point in, he asked if we were fully armed (so that we could blow our brains out if necessary), and then gave us our directions. We were to swim the river beyond the northern rampart, recross it by the bridge west of the Residency, and cut straight south through Lucknow city and hope to run into Campbell's advance picquets on the other side. Kavanaugh, who knew the streets, would choose our path, but I would lead and do the talking.
Then Outram looked us both in the eye, and blessed us, and everyone shook hands, looking noble, while I wondered if I'd time to go to the privy Kavanaugh, shaking with excitement, cleared his throat and says:
'We know what is to be done, sorr — an' we'll give our lives gladly in the attempt. We know the risks, ould fellow, do we not?' he added, turning to me.
'Oh, aye,' says I, 'that bazaar'll be full of fleas — we'll be lousy for weeks.' Since there was no escape, I might as well give 'em another Flashy bon mot to remember.
It moved them, as only jocular heroism can; Outram's aide, Hardinge, was absolutely piping his eye, and said England would never forget us, everyone patted us on the back with restrained emotion, and shoved us off in the direction of the rampart. I could hear Kavanaugh breathing heavily — the brute positively panted in Irish — and whispered to him again to remember to leave any talking to me. 'Oi will, Flashy, Oi will,' says he, lumbering along and stumbling over his ridiculous sword.
The thing was a farce from the start. By the time we had slipped over the rampart and made our way through the pitch dark down to the bank of the Goomtee, I had realised that I was in company with an irresponsible lunatic, who had no real notion of what he was doing. Even while we were stripping for our swim, he suddenly jerked his head up, at the sound of a faint plop out on the water.
'That's trout afther minnow,' says he, and then there was another louder plop. 'An' that's otter afther trout,' says he, with satisfaction. 'Are ye a fisherman, are ye?' Before I could hush his babbling, he had suddenly seized my hand — and him standing there bollock-naked with his togs piled on his head — and said fervently:
'D'ye know what — we're goin' to do wan o' the deeds that saved the Impoire, so we are! An' Oi don't moind tellin' ye somethin' else — for the first toime in me loife, Oi'm scared!'
'The first time!' squeaks I, but already he was plunging in with a splash like the launching of the Great Eastern, puffing and striking out in the dark, leaving me with the appalling realisation that for once I was in the company of someone as terrified as myself. It was desperate — I mean, on previous enterprises of this kind I'd been used to relying on some gallant idiot who could keep his head, but here I was with this buffoon who was not only mad Irish, but was plainly drunk with the idea of playing Dick Champion, the Saviour of the Side, and was trembling in his boots at the same time. Furthermore, he was given to daydreaming about trouts and otters at inappropriate moments, and had no more idea of moving silently than a bear with a ball and chain. But there was nothing for it now; I slid into the freezing water and swam the half-furlong to the far bank, where he was standing on one leg in the mud, hauling his clothes on, and making the deuce of a row about it.
'Are ye there, Flash?' says he, in a hoarse whisper you could have heard in Delhi. 'We'll have to be hellish quiet, ye know. Oi think there's pandies up the bank!'
Since we could see their picquets round the camp-fires not fifty yards away, it was a reasonable conclusion, and we hadn't stolen twenty yards along the riverside when someone hailed us. I shouted back, and our challenger remarked that it was cold, at which the oaf Kavanaugh petrified me by suddenly bawling out: 'Han, bhai, bahut nmder!'*(*'Yes, brother, very cold!') like some greenhorn reciting from a Hindi primer. I hustled him quickly away, took him by the neck, and hissed:
'Will you keep your damned gob shut, you great murphy?'
I is apologised in a nervous whisper, and muttered some-thing about Queen and Country; his eye was glittering feverishly. 'Oi'll be more discreet, Flash,' says he, and so we went on, with me answering another couple of challenges before we reached the bridge, and crossed safely over into Lucknow town.
This was the testing part, for here there was lighting in the streets, and passers-by, and Kavanaugh might easily he recognised as counterfeit. The swim hadn't done his dyed skin any good, and apart from that his outlandish rig, the European walk, the whole cut of the man, was an invitation to disaster. Well, thinks I, if he's spotted, it's into the dark for Flashy, and old O'Hooligan can take care of himself.
The worst of it was, he seemed incapable of keeping quiet, but was forever halting to mutter: 'The mosque, ah, that's right, now — and then de little stone bridge — where the divil is it? D'ye see it, Flashy — it ought to be right by hereabouts?' I told him if he must chunter, to do it in Hindi, and he said absent-mindedly 'Oi will, Oi will, niver fear. Oi wish to God we had a compass.' He seemed to think he was in Phoenix Park.
It wasn't too bad at first, because we were moving through gardens, with few folk about, but then we came to the great Chauk Bazaar. Thank God it was ill-lit, but there were groups of pandies everywhere, folk at the stalls, idlers at every corner, and even a few palkis swaying through the narrow ways. I put on a bold front, keeping Kavanaugh between me and the wall, and just swaggered along, spitting. No one gave me a second glance, but by hellish luck we passed close by a group of pandies with some whores in tow, and one of the tarts plucked at Kavanaugh's sleeve and made an improper suggestion; her sepoy stared and growled resentfully, and my heart was in my 'mouth as I hustled Kavanaugh along, shouting over my shoulder that he'd just been married the previous day and was exhausted, at which they laughed and let us be. At least that kept him shut up for a spell, but no sooner were we clear of the bazaar than he was chattering with relief, and stopped to pick carrots in a vegetable patch, remarking at the top of his voice that they were 'the swaitest little things' he'd tasted in months.
Then he lost our way. 'That looks devilish like the Kaiser Bagh,' says he, and fell into a monsoon ditch. I hauled him out, and he went striding off into the dark, and to my horror stopped a little old fellow and asked where we were. The man said 'Jangli Ganj', and hurried off, glancing suspiciously at us. Kavanaugh stood and scratched himself and said it wasn't possible. 'If this is Jangli Ganj,' says he, 'then where the hell is Mirza Kera, will ye tell me that? Ye know what, Flashman, that ould clown doesn't know where he's at, at all, at all.' After that we blundered about in the dark, two daring and desperate men on our vital secret mission, and then Kavanaugh gave a great laugh and said it was all right, he knew where we were, after all, and that must be Moulvie Jenab's garden, so we should go left.
We did, and finished up striking matches along Haidar's Canal — at least, that's what Kavanaugh said it was, and he should have known, for he was in it twice, thrashing about in the water and cursing. When he had climbed out he was in a thundering rage, swearing the Engineers had got the map of Lucknow all wrong, but we must cross the canal anyway, and bear left until we hit the Cawnpore road. 'The bloody thing's over dere somewhere!' cries he, and he seemed sure of that, at least, I stifled my growing …..and off we went, with Kavanaugh tripping over fir and stopping every now and then to peer into the Ithuu wondering: 'D'ye think that garden could have rr the Char Bagh, now? No, no, niver — and yet agin, It nit right be — what d'ye think, Flashy?'
What I thought you may guess; we must have been wandering for hours, and for all we knew we might be heat lillg back towards the Residency. Kavanaugh's slippers ltr,l given out, and when he lost one of them we had to pipe about in a melon patch until he found it; his feet were m .r deplorable condition, and he'd lost his shield, Intl he was still convinced our plight was all the fault tat the ancient he had asked the way from. He thought we Wright try a cast to our right, so we did, and found rturselve.. wandering in I)ilkoosha Park, which was full of Nutty .utrllery, even I knew we were quite out the way, and K.rvattanglr xaid, yeti, Ile had made a mistake, but such mtNhalrs were of frequent occurrence. We must bear away south, so we tried that, and I asked a peasant sitting out With his crops if he would guide us to the Alam Bagh. 1e raim lie was too old and lame, and Kavanaugh lost trio temper and roared at him, at which the fellow ran oll ahrtrking, and the dogs began to bark and we had to run Irrr it and Kavanaugh went headlong into a thorn hur4lt (And this, as he'd remarked, was one of the Deeds tl4.rr 'saved the
