and it had given him much satisfaction to go to his tent knowing that the Sixth were as keen in their field discipline as they were in their fighting intent. He was afraid the former would be tested far longer than the latter, for what he had seen of the siege that day did not lead him to suppose there would be anything but cannonading and sapping for a month or more - save, perhaps, an obliging sortie by Durjan Sal's cavalry.
But now he was pleased for his campaign bed, and that it was the Sixteenth - Daniel Coates's old regiment - who stood sentinel. He could rest assured. Private Johnson had placed a bowl of hot water on one of the chests, but it was now only lukewarm. Hervey undressed, put on his nightshirt, washed his hands and set to work with sponge and tooth powder. Then he unmade his bed in the nightly routine of shaking out anything that might have crawled there during the time his groom had been gone, and, satisfied at last of his safety, lay down between white cotton sheets beneath two thick woollen blankets. He took care to double them and fold the edges under, for he knew he would need their warmth on so starry a night. The pillow was soft, and he had no desire to read or to contemplate anything. He turned down the lamp to the merest glow, and closed his eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
RUMOURS OF WAR
The early hours
From the depths of sleep, Hervey was called rudely to arms. To awake to the 'alarm' -the bugle's repeated C and E, unmistakable, and easy enough for the most frightened trumpeter to blow - had been a thrill in his cornet days, but now it meant only anxiety in the knowledge that there had been some failure. Perhaps his own? There was firing, too, distant but near enough to take account of. He turned up the lamp and began hauling on his overalls as Private Johnson, breathless, pulled back the tent flap. 'Major 'Ervey, sir!'
Hervey had no idea why his groom was already abroad and dressed.
'They 'ad me up cos thi mare's got a bit o' colic. All 'ell's broke loose over where t' Six-teenth are.'
'Very well. You'd better saddle up Gilbert if you will.' He began wondering who had given the order to sound the alarm.
'Bring 'im 'ere, sir?'
'No. Just where we stand to.’ This was no time to be making things complicated.
Johnson picked up Hervey’s boots and shook them.
'Thank you, Johnson. Now away.’
It took him but a minute more to finish dressing, fastening on the swordbelt last and picking up his pistols from beside the bed. He put on his shako as he ducked out of his tent, straining his eyes in the darkness, which fires and torches made all the darker in the unlit places. Men were hastening all about him, but with order and purpose. All they did, indeed, was the same as for stand-to before first light every day, except that it was at the double and in the expectation of action rather than merely the possibility. When he reached E Troop's line, the chargers to the right, he found Johnson with Gilbert under saddle, fastening up the bridle. He put both pistols into the holsters then made to tighten the girth and surcingle.
'Right, sir,’ said Johnson, taking away the head collar rather than spending any more time looping the straps.
Hervey was not yet ready to mount, though. 'Mr Perry! Mr Green!’ he called. There was a good deal of calling all around, and he was not about to enter into a competition with the corporals; but he wanted to know his officers were at their posts.
Serjeant-Major Armstrong came up with a lantern. 'Mr Perry's reporting to the adjutant, sir.’
Of course he was. Hervey had forgotten for the moment that Perry was next for picket-officer. 'And Mr Green?'
'Haven't seen him, sir. Both sections'll be ready in not many minutes more. They were quick out of their pits, I'll say that for 'em. Mind you, Collins was on picket.'
Corporal Wainwright now came up, leading his trooper. 'Sir.'
'Where is Mr Green?'
'I don't know, sir. I'll find 'is groom.'
'No. Let it be, for the moment. Come with me to the major.'
'Ay, sir. He's by the picket tent.'
'Very well. Johnson!'
'Sir?'
'Get someone to find where Mr Green is.' He turned to Armstrong. 'Carry on, then. Not to mount without the order, though.'
'Right, sir.'
Hervey strode off with Corporal Wainwright down the flanks of the horse lines, noting the state of each troop as he passed - so far as the darkness allowed him. Only A Troop looked unready. He found Joynson and the adjutant at the picket tent, the RSM standing with his notebook poised, the picket-officer just taking his leave. There was still firing from the Sixteenth's lines, but no sign of a galloper from brigade.
'Well, Hervey?' said Joynson, a touch wearily.
'Have we sent anyone to make contact?'
'No. And I'm not inclined to risk it,' replied
Joynson firmly. 'Finding what's happening would be the very devil of a job. If there's a real reverse we shall hear of it soon enough.'
'Then I believe we should move up to support the Sixteenth without orders.'
'Why?' The major's tone did not so much challenge as request elaboration.
'Because - unlikely as it may seem - it might just be the sortie in strength that we were speaking of.'
'Why have we not had orders to that effect from brigade, then? I've sent Perry there, by the way.'
'Well, the brigadier will be no more certain than we are, in all likelihood.'
Joynson was clearly troubled. 'Yes, but the general must be given the opportunity to exercise a proper command, must he not?'
Hervey was becoming exasperated. This was the Joynson of past years, not of late months: the Joynson cowed by Towcester, sick headaches and the like. 'Eustace, since when did cavalry have to await an order to close with the enemy?'
There was no answer to this. The major turned to the adjutant. 'Very well, then. Have the regiment mount.'
The adjutant turned to the trumpet-major. 'Troops to mount, please.'
'Sir!' The trumpet-major put his bugle to his lips and sounded the regimental call followed by the octave leap of 'prepare to mount', then the simpler repeated Cs and Gs of the executive.
'I'd like you next to me, Hervey,' said Joynson, perfectly composed. 'It'll be a deuced tricky business in this light. Perry can look after E Troop. They can ride under second squadron.'
'With respect, sir. It might be better to keep the troop in hand. You never know—'
'Very well, very well. If you are content with that then I have no objection. Perry's able enough to have them on his own.'
Hervey would say nothing more, but he was hardly content, for the troop would be under command of the grocer until Perry returned from his galloping. Assuming, that was, that Green would actually find them. However, there were Armstrong and Collins, and he could always take the lead again before they were committed. He turned to Corporal Wainwright, who nodded his understanding and made off at once to E Troop.
Hervey had greater concerns, however. The handling of a regiment of light dragoons in troop ranks was, even by day, a testing undertaking. When the ground was unbroken, as on a review, it could pass off at the trot tolerably well, though anything beyond a couple of hundred yards led to bunching and bulging of the line to such an extent that it was difficult to recover proper dressing without coming back to a walk. When it was dark, however, and the ground broken as here, the undertaking verged on the reckless. He took out his telescope, stepped the other side of
