captaincy, and Hairsine to the consequent lieutenancy. Lord Holderness agreed that it seemed an admirable arrangement.
‘And then there is the appointment of a new regimental serjeant-major—’
Lord Holderness held up a hand. ‘Ah, on that I may spare you the burden of decision. I shall want to bring in my own man.’
Hervey was taken aback. The practice was not unknown, but there had never been an outsider, an ‘extract’, come to that appointment. ‘Colonel, with great respect, I would counsel against it. The senior troop serjeant-major is a most experienced and esteemed man.’
Lord Holderness held his smile despite the unexpected and early questioning of his intentions. ‘I’m sure he is, Hervey. And he will have his turn, but I wish to bring my late serjeant-major with me.’
Hervey saw there was nothing he might say now to have his new lieutenant-colonel change his mind. He did not know him: persistence might even prejudice his opinion for good. ‘Very well, Colonel.’
‘And now, Hervey, I really must get back to the House: the Corn-bill, or the Catholics; I don’t recall quite which.’
‘Of course. And you are to come to Hounslow…’
Lord Holderness put on his forage cap. ‘Next month, early, the second week, perhaps. I shall much look forward to renewing our acquaintance, Major Hervey. Good-bye, sir.’ He held out a hand again.
‘Good-bye, Colonel.’
‘The devil of it!’ said Hervey, when Lord Holderness had gone. ‘Why must he bring his own man?’
‘You would do the same, no doubt,’ suggested Howard.
Hervey sighed. ‘No doubt.’
After a moment or two, Howard pulled the bell cord at the side of the chimney piece, and sat down. ‘Your coming this day is most apt. Will you tea?’
Hervey nodded, as if resigned, and sat down. ‘Thank you.’
A messenger came.
‘Would you have tea brought us, please, Rayner,’ asked Howard, with an agreeable nod.
Hervey sat forward as the messenger left. ‘Howard, before anything, I would have you know my news, though it is as yet unannounced. I am to marry Lady Lankester.’
‘Hervey, my
‘I did not expect a favourable reply from her so soon; that is sure. And when the arrangements are made, I would be very greatly obliged if you would be my supporter.’
His friend nodded. ‘Of course, of course: a pleasure – an honour, indeed.’
Hervey leaned back in his chair. ‘Now, why is my coming this morning so apt?’
Howard likewise leaned back, as if he too wanted to distance himself from the frivolity of nuptials. He smiled again, as a man about to impart welcome news. ‘Two things. First, you shall have the Cape Colony commission.’
Hervey could not but reflect the smile, and he nodded his satisfaction. ‘I imagine I am obliged to General Tarleton in this.’
Howard frowned. ‘General Tarleton? No, I fear not; not at all. He called on the duke, but the duke would not see him. It was all a most disagreeable affair. The general insisted, but Wellington would not have it. There were pressing affairs to attend to yesterday, but not so pressing as to refuse old Tarleton. I confess I felt exceedingly sorry for him. There’s clearly bad blood there.’
‘Then how was the decision come to, and so quick?’
Howard raised an eyebrow. ‘You have other friends do you not?’
‘My
‘Not
‘I don’t understand: Somervile? Irvine?’
Howard shook his head. ‘Rather better looking than either of them – at least to the duke’s eye.’
Hervey’s mouth fell open. ‘Good God! You don’t mean…?’
‘They rode in the park together yesterday afternoon.’
Hervey shook his head despairingly.
‘The Military Secretary will sign the authority tomorrow. And by the way – fortune favours you indeed – a troop of cavalry is to reinforce the garrison at the Cape. General Bourke has asked for it most urgently, though the duke is of the opinion that it should remain for but a year. You may imagine the arguments as to who shall pay for it!’
Hervey smiled ruefully. He imagined it all too well. Whitehall was a world he never wished to enter save occasionally to see his friend.
‘The quartermaster-general will instruct the London District to furnish the troop, so it shall certainly be the Sixth.’
Hervey let his smile broaden. ‘That is very gratifying, as well as sound sense.’
Howard nodded, but slowly, thoughtfully. ‘The other matter is perhaps less welcome to your ears – your report on the affair at Waltham Abbey.’
Hervey sat up.
‘Your
‘Representation? Is it that? I was making no plea. Rather was I laying out the facts, as they appeared to me, of a decidedly strange run of events.’
‘Is that your business as a soldier?’
Hervey’s eyes widened. ‘On becoming soldiers we have not ceased to be citizens.’
Lord John Howard held up a hand. ‘Do not
Hervey suddenly understood.
‘If your report is to go to the Secretary at War then I am very much afraid you will be unable to take up the Cape commission.’
‘Why?’ asked Hervey, indignantly. ‘I shall be punished for laying out the facts?’
Howard answered his old friend patiently. ‘No, not punished. Lord Palmerston would want to consider it with close attention. He might wish to question witnesses, order an inquiry. At the very least you would be required to give evidence. You could not do so from the Cape.’
Hervey thought very carefully. ‘Do you say that I should withdraw my report? That the commission at the Cape is …
Lord John Howard looked grave. ‘My dear fellow, I am very much of the opinion that it is indeed so.’
PART II
THE TOUCH OF THE SPEAR
XIV