Read Online Rogue Officer by Garry Douglas Kilworth - Free Book Online

after the horses. Jack had done this sort of thing before and found his private missing when he returned from patrols, but this time Wynter had remained put. He was still there, albeit very nervous, when Jack and Raktambar returned. The pair had simply wandered through the encampments, arousing no suspicions since they were dressed similarly to the rebels and they covered the lower half of their faces, as if to escape the effects of smoke and dust. Thus they were able to walk around unmolested, with Raktambar fielding any casual questions or returning greetings. Jack’s Hindi and Urdu were up to it, but he knew it was best to keep his mouth shut in case he made a tiny mistake.
    ‘Well?’ asked Wynter. ‘You goin’ to tell me or not?’
    ‘In good time,’ growled the lieutenant. Both knew the information had to be shared as quickly as possible, in case they were suddenly discovered. If Raktambar and Crossman were killed or captured, and Wynter survived, it would be up to him to pass on the information to General Campbell. This was not an outfit in which the officer kept things close to his chest, as in a normal unit. Espionage only worked on a share-all basis. The figures and disposition of the foe had to get back to be of any use at all.
    Later, Jack Crossman briefed Wynter on what he and Raktambar had learned during their walkabout. They spent the evening counting fires and using the average number of men who might use a fire to calculate roughly the total number of troops. They had walked through the cavalry lines and had noted the number of corrals and the number of horses to each corral. They had strolled the edge of the town and had seen the barracks where the officers were billeted, and had come up with a total there too. By the time they walked back to their bivouacs by the mahout’s hut, they had a reasonably good impression of the enemy’s strength.
    The following morning, before the dawn came up, they rode back towards Campbell’s advancing column. This time they avoided the village which the few rebels were holding, though Raktambar wanted to charge in and take them on. These mutineers had dented the Rajput’s honour by forcing him to run and he was desperate to repair the damage. Jack had to remind the Rajput that this was not the priority: that they needed to get the intelligence to General Campbell. Happily his bodyguard saw the sense in this, though he had had a fleeting thought that he might ride in alone.
    On arrival back at the British camp, Jack made his way to the farmhouse which the general was temporarily occupying. Outside was a knot of cavalry officers talking with staff officers. Jack heard the phrase, ‘Old Crawling-camel . . .’ which he knew referred to General Campbell.
    Too late Jack noticed that Captain Deighnton was one of the knot. The cavalry officer looked up and sneered as Lieutenant Jack Crossman passed by.
    ‘You still around?’ he murmured.
    ‘Get used to it, Captain,’ replied Jack. ‘I’m part of the furniture.’
    Deighnton turned back to his brother officers and there was some low talk which fortunately did not reach Jack’s ears.
    The general admitted him straight away.
    General Sir Colin Campbell was now grey-haired and leaner than when Jack had last seen him. He turned an intelligent face on the lieutenant and looked him up and down. Jack remained unmoving, wondering whether he was going to get a dressing down for being in Indian cottons, and prepared his defence. There were so many senior officers who were sticklers for protocol and would rather lose valuable time than have an officer appear before them out of uniform. Campbell, however, was not one of those.
    ‘I know you,’ said the older man. ‘I know your face.’
    ‘Perhaps you are mistaking me, sir, for my brother. Both my older brother and father served with the 93rd which you commanded. My brother was a lieutenant, my father a major. The Kirks?’
    ‘Ah, I remember Major Kirk, yes. And the younger