Part 24

“Ah! What do you mean by that?”

“I cannot look at wars from your point of view, dear Mrs. Baird. It almost seems to me that there is not a very great difference between men and brute beasts, who fight each other out of hunger, or jealousy, and all kinds of low instincts.”

“Oh, what a comparison to draw!”

“Well, it is true we know better how to wage war. We invent complicated instruments wherewith to destroy our fellow-beings in enormous numbers, whilst animals are limited to their own natural weapons. But do we, therefore, know better what we are doing than the animals? Don’t you think that, when hosts of ants, or bees, or weasels, or fishes in the sea sally forth to destroy other creatures of their species, they may be guided perhaps by the same instincts that govern us also?”

“I cannot follow you there, Mrs. Irwin,” the little lady replied, with a shade of irritation in her voice. “Human beings are endowed with reason, and are conscious of their aims and actions.”

“Is it really so reasonable when peasants and labourers go to war as soldiers? Are they really led by a conscious purpose within them? None of them has anything to gain. They are compelled by others to allow themselves to be maimed and killed, and to kill their fellow-beings. And the survivors are in no respects better off, after gaining a victory, than they were before. And the leaders themselves? In the morals of Christian faith honours, orders, and endowments are only idle toys. Let us be honest, Mrs. Baird. Did England conquer India in order to propagate the Christian gospel? No! We have shed rivers of blood solely in order to spread our commerce, and in order to increase the wealth of a few, who themselves wisely remained at a safe distance from the fray, in the possession of luxury beyond the dreams of avarice.”

“It is sad to hear such words from the mouth of an Englishwoman.”

The conversation was in danger of taking a critical turn, as the Colonel’s wife felt seriously annoyed and wounded by Edith’s words. Heideck turned the discussion into a less dangerous channel. Soon afterwards the Colonel arrived; he occupied a tent further away in the camp, and only rarely found time to look after his family.

He simulated an air of gaiety and composure which he was far from feeling, and he was too indifferent an actor to succeed in his part.

“I am sorry, but I can only stay a very short time,” he said, when he had caressed and kissed the little girls, whom he loved so tenderly, with still greater affection than usual. “My chief object in coming was to instruct you, dear Ellen, what you have to do in case we have to retire.”

“To retire--? For Heaven’s sake--I hope there is no question of retiring!”

The Colonel smiled, though not quite naturally.

“Of course, we cannot reckon with certainty upon victory. He would be a bad general who did not consider the possibility of defeat. During the last few hours all our dispositions have been altered. We are on the point of starting to attack the Russians.”

“That is right!” cried Mrs. Baird, with bright eyes. “A British army must not wait for the enemy, but go and meet him.”

“We shall march out at early dawn to try and prevent the Russians from crossing the Ravi. The engineers leave to-night in advance to destroy the bridges, if it is not already too late. The army has to execute a considerable movement to the left about, in order to reach the right position. At the same time the front has to be extended and lengthened to the right. The left wing remains at Shah Dara and the pontoon bridge.”

“Is it not possible for us to come out also and look on at the battle?” inquired Mrs. Baird. But her husband shook his head in decided refusal.

“For you, dearest Ellen, our trustworthy Smith will have a cart, with two strong oxen, ready here in the hotel. That is to provide for all eventualities. Should you receive news that the army is retreating upon Lahore--which the Lord forbid--you must lose not a minute, but drive as quick as possible, before the crush at the gates and in the streets begins, through the Akbari gate over the canal bridge leading to the Sadrbazar, and so to Amritsar, where you may be able to take the railway to Goordas. All other lines are closed for other than military purposes. Panic will not extend so far as that, and there, in any small hill station, you will find a safe resting-place for the present. And now, Mr. Heideck, may I trouble you by asking a great favour of you?”

“I am entirely at your disposal, Colonel.”

“Stop here in the hotel--try to obtain the latest intelligence as to the course of events, and act as protector to the ladies and children until they are in security. If you will permit me to hand you a cheque--”

“Please leave that for the present, Colonel,” Heideck replied. “I am provided with plenty of money and will render you an account later. I promise to protect your family and Mrs. Irwin as well as I can. But I think it would be better for me not to remain in the town, but to accompany the troops. I will return as soon as possible should events take an unfavourable turn. The anxiety of the ladies would be unnecessarily increased, and I myself should be uncertain as to what to do if we received unreliable news here in the hotel as to the position of affairs.”

“You are right,” said the Colonel, after a moment’s hesitation. “Already now the most absurd rumours are flying about. Leaflets have been distributed amongst our Mohammedan troops inciting them with the maddest and most deceitful promises to desert from the British army. A few persons, taken whilst distributing such leaflets, have been already shot without more ado. I leave everything to your circumspection and decision. In any case, it will be best for you to keep as near to the Commander-in-Chief as possible. My permit will open the road to you everywhere. I will thank you later on.”

He shook Heideck’s hand warmly, and embraced his wife and his children once more, and the two men turned to leave. The dull foreboding that it was a parting for ever lay heavily upon all of them.

XIII

THE BATTLE

As Heideck returned to the camp, the road was lit up by the red glare of innumerable fires. On the wide plain, stretching between the town and river, work was going on in feverish haste. Rations and ammunition were being dealt out, and long lines of beasts of burden were in motion. Thousands of hands were busily employed in trying to facilitate the passage of the troops across the shallow tributary of the Ravi. The boggy places were made firm by a covering of palm branches and leaves; and logs of wood were got ready in hot haste for the artillery. Heideck could not help wondering why it was that the army had not been concentrated from the first at the point the battle was to take place. The approach through the difficult tract of land, in connexion with the contemplated movement to the left, made calls upon the endurance of the troops that could not but have the most detrimental effect upon the issue of the battle.

He met his Indian boy, evidently in great excitement, in front of his tent.

“When we start to-morrow we shall leave the tent with everything in it,” said Heideck. “You will ride my horse and I shall take yours.”

Morar Gopal was a Hindu from the south, almost as black as a nigger, a small, agile little man, weighing scarcely eight stone. It was in order to save his own horse for the later exertions of the day that Heideck wanted his boy to ride him at first.