Read Online The Cannons of Lucknow by V. A. Stuart - Free Book Online

distance, an air of almost arrogant authority which had evidently made itself felt among the men marching at his back. They formed a compact body, their rifles shouldered and every man in step to the beat of the drums and fifes playing them in. They were wet and obviously tired but they held their heads high and even the camp followers and the baggage train seemed to have kept pace with the rest of the column instead of straggling behind it, as most such cumbersome trains did.
    Impressed in spite of his earlier critical thoughts, Alex rode over to join his own men. Lieutenant Palliser had formed them up in two lines by the road verge, intending to receive the new arrivals with the ceremony of a salute, but they looked a bedraggled little party in their sodden red cotton infantry tunics, and the horses were restive and hard to control. Four or five of the men failed entirely to control their mounts and, as they backed awkwardly out of line, they unsettled the horses nearest them, which had hitherto been giving their riders no trouble. One animal reared, depositing its rider in the mud; flustered and cursing, the others endeavoured to get back into line and Palliser, exasperated by their incompetence, roared at them to hold steady. They managed finally to obey him and reform ranks, but their salute, when General Neill drew level with them, was anything but ceremonious. He recognised Palliser and gave vent to a bellow of laughter.
    â€œDevil take it, Charlie, what’s this rabble you’re with? They don’t look much like cavalrymen to me. Surely these aren’t the Gentlemen Volunteers who’ve covered themselves with glory, according to the Old Gentleman’s despatches?”
    Palliser, scarlet with annoyance, shook his head. He was an admirer of Neill’s and had served under him prior to General Havelock’s arrival in Allahabad. During that period, his Irregulars had behaved in exemplary fashion, and their attempted defection at Fatepur still rankled. “Good Lord, no, sir!” he retorted indignantly. “The horses are mine—my fellows were made to hand them over with their arms. But the clowns who are now endeavouring to ride them are General Havelock’s latest idea—recruits from the infantry, if you please.”
    â€œI see.” General Neill permitted himself an amused and tolerant smile. “Well, perhaps you had better dismiss them, before they do any more damage either to themselves or their horses.” His dark eyes rested for a moment, indifferently, on Alex’s face, but he wore no badges of rank and made no attempt to introduce himself, and the older man was turning away when Charles Palliser, recovering his temper, made the introduction with a murmured apology.
    â€œLieutenant-Colonel Sheridan, sir. I beg you to forgive my bad manners, Colonel Sheridan, I—”
    â€œSheridan … Colonel Sheridan?” James Neill took in Alex’s empty sleeve and the scar on his face and waited, lips above the recently grown black beard suddenly tightening. “Damme, I’ve heard of you but the connection eludes me for the moment. Aren’t you a cavalryman?”
    Alex bowed. He had his emotions under stern control and his expression was carefully blank. “Yes, sir, Third Light Cavalry,” he supplied. “Brevet rank of lieutenant-cColonel, at present serving as a Volunteer in Captain Barrow’s Horse.”
    â€œA lieutenant-colonel serving as a Volunteer … good Gad! What times we live in.” Neill was clearly puzzled but Alex did not enlighten him. Instead he answered quietly, “Indeed so, General. If you’ll permit me, sir, I should like to take my recruits back to their lines. They’ve had rather a grueling first day on horseback and—”
    â€œNo, no, hold on, if you please.” Neill’s smile returned. “Let Charlie Palliser take ’em, for God’s sake, and ride in with me. I’ve