The Sabre's Edge

Brennan these days with a fellow countryman in McCarthy to share tobacco and grog with (and a fellow with stripes to boot). 'I shall tell him. But he's had light work in respect of numbers, I see -a good dozen short. Do you know what are the remount arrangements?'

The purchase of remounts was not the business of the veterinary surgeon, but he had an obvious interest. 'Nothing's coming from the Company studs this year, apparently, so it's all down to dealers. When you're ready to look I'll come with you if you'd like. We've kept the lines free of infection all year and I shouldn't want anything brought in on approval.'

Hervey smiled. 'David, I should value your opinion on more than just the animal's health. But not for a day or so, I think - unless you say others will be looking too. I'll ask the RM as well.'

Sledge looked pained. 'Broad's not been in best sorts of late. Ledley's had to dose him a good deal.'

'Fever?'

Sledge still looked pained. 'N-o-o.'

'Well, I hope whatever is the cause he will not be indisposed long. I've seen no better man with remounts.'

'I shall be seeing him later. I will pass on your regard.'

Hervey scowled. 'Come, David; you are not telling me all.'

Sledge looked relieved. To be explicit, it's a case for mercury and nitrate.'

'Oh God,' groaned Hervey. 'But what of Annie Broad? Has she gone home or something?'

Sledge raised his eyebrows. 'I should ask Rose.'

'What?'

'Been drawing his yard there, it seems. Better not speak of it here.'

Hervey shook his head slowly. 'Is it much talked about?'

'What - the mercury or Rose?' 'Both.'

'Neither generally, but the mercury's out in the ranks, I think. The Rose business Broad himself told me. But not here, Hervey. Can you come to my dispense later?'

Hervey finished his tour of the horse lines alone, then went to the troop office, where he found Myles Vanneck and his new cornet, Green.

'Good morning, Hervey!' said Vanneck, and with evident pleasure - even though his captain's return meant he would no longer have charge of things.

Hervey had found it easy leaving the troop in his lieutenant's hands. It was, after all, what was intended by the name of that rank. But in Myles Vanneck he had especial trust, as much as he had known in Seton Canning, even. Vanneck had been with the Sixth scarcely five years, but he had taken to command with the greatest of ease - the same ease, indeed, as that of his elder brother in the Eighteenth, whom Hervey had known in the Peninsula. And Vanneck had been lucky, too, for the means to buy a lieutenancy when the time came had been but a trifle to him at 'India rates', though when it was his turn for a captaincy the regiment would, for sure, be back in England and he would thereby have to pay well over price. Not that that should present the Honourable Myles Vanneck with too much difficulty, however: Lord Huntingfield's sons did not go in want of anything. And it was one of the reasons that Hervey so liked him, for he could easily have bought into a home regiment and enjoyed the pleasures of London or Brighton rather than the dust and heat, and the doubtful society of Calcutta. And, of course, the young Cornet Vanneck had comported himself so admirably in the affair of the river. Blue blood, and not afraid to shed it - it was hardly surprising the men regarded him.

Hervey smiled and took off his cap.

'This is Cornet Green.'

Hervey held out his hand, which the cornet took a shade hesitantly.

'How d'you do, sir,' said Green.

The cavalryman's coup d'oeil was not always faithful when it came to the man rather than the situation. That much Hervey would freely acknowledge. But Green was not of the usual stamp: that much was impossible not to observe. He looked ungainly, a touch heavy-limbed to be a man at home in the saddle. And his features were a deal less fine than the subalterns prided themselves on. In the few words of his salutation he revealed that he came from the north of England (although that in itself said nothing, for the proud and independent gentry of the northern counties had provided many a son to the regiment during the war). But there was just something . . . No, thought Hervey; here indeed was a queer card.

'When did you come?' he asked, with deliberate kindness.

'Three months ago, sir.'

'Did you come via the depot?'

'No, sir.'

Nothing more volunteered than the precise answer - this was going to be heavy.

Vanneck sought to help. 'He has bought two fine chargers, I might say. One of them was that bay of Williams's in the bodyguard.'

Hervey nodded. 'I much approve. I had a mind to buy him myself if ever he came up.'

'Thank you, sir.'

Green's hair was sticking up by his right temple, like a duck's tuft. Hervey found himself staring at it.

Vanneck kept trying. 'Green was just about to go to the adjutant. He's picket-officer today.'

'So I see,' said Hervey, glancing at the cornet's review order.

Green's tunic, and all, looked in themselves immaculate, but even Mr Gieve's best efforts could not make a military coat hang well on a dumpling.

'Very good, Green,^’ said Hervey, trying hard not to sound dismayed. ^cWe^’ll speak at length tomorrow when your duties are done.^’

Cornet Green coloured a little, put on his shako (askew, but Hervey thought best to say nothing -the adjutant would correct it soon enough), saluted and took his leave.

When he had gone, Hervey sat down and looked at Vanneck quizzically.

Vanneck sighed. 'I know. But he means well. The others have given him quite a rousting, though. His nickname's 'grocer^’’.^’

'Green—, I suppose?^’

Vanneck nodded. 'That, and his father's a tea merchant, in Lincolnshire.^’ He paused, then added, 'In Stamford,^’ as if that fact might be of some use.

Hervey smiled ruefully. 'Evidently they drink a lot of tea in Stamford if he can afford Williams's bay.'

'Oh, he's not short of money. On the contrary. The trouble is his ambition is rather in advance of his capability. He's yet to pass out of riding school.'

'Indeed?'

'I did tell him that he might buy a more tractable charger to begin with, but he seemed keen to make a splash.'

'Poor fellow.'

'Yes. And the RM's been sick the while, so the rough-riders have had their fun with him, I'm afraid.'

Hervey laid his cap and whip on the table. 'Can't you help at all, Myles?'

'I'm doing just that, Hervey. I take him out beyond the syces' huts late of an afternoon, where there's no one to see. But I'm not sure he has the hands or legs for it, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't the head.'

'Oh dear. And the drill season about to start.'

'Quite. I'm afraid the dragoons have a poor opinion of him already. He's too stiff about the place.'

'It's hardly surprising from what you tell me. But there have been stiff-necks before; he can overcome that in time. You will keep at him, Myles?'

Vanneck sighed. 'Yes, Hervey. Of course I will. But the others have no such duty as they see it. The trouble is, he has no conversation - and seemingly no interests. At mess the other night even the chaplain gave up on him, and then he fell off his chair quite stupefied.'

'The chaplain?'

'No, Green.'

Hervey smiled again. 'Well, there at least is sign of a kindred spirit, is there not?'

Vanneck smiled too. 'You would think so, but to hear them you'd imagine the cornets had become