For a moment none of them reacted and Arthur was aware that the other columns had entered the camp and were already forming a firing line.Then one of the Nizam’s men on the fringe of the crowd lowered his weapon to the ground and hurried away. Another man followed his lead, then another, until the edges of the crowd were melting away and then those at the heart of mob also began to surrender their weapons, leaving their provocatory leader alone on his tub, still imploring them to come back and take the arsenal. Eventually, he too gave up, shoulders slumping as he climbed down from the upended tub and beat a retreat back to the barracks. Arthur watched him go, and saw that the others were gathering up their comrades, the women and the children and disappearing into the barrack blocks. Soon there was little sign of life around the camp and wisps of steam and smoke from the fires lifted lazily into the morning air. Arthur felt the tension of the last few moments drain from his body to be replaced by a blessed sense of relief that the crisis had passed and he had won the day, without any bloodshed. He idly hoped that all his victories could be as bloodless as this, then cursed himself for being such a naïve fool.

The plan had been good, and carried out to the letter. All that remained was to carry out the terms of the treaty the Nizam had signed.

The column that had entered by the main gate was led by Colonel Malcolm, who doffed his hat to Arthur as he approached the arsenal and called out, ‘Good day to you, sir!’

Arthur nodded. ‘And to you.’

‘Bloody fine piece of work.’ Malcolm laughed as he surveyed the abandoned muskets carpeting the ground in front of the arsenal. ‘We’ve done it! Just wait till word of this gets back to Calcutta! Fine work, sir! Fine work.’

Arthur stretched his back and smiled to himself. He could already imagine Richard’s delight at hearing that the plan had gone so smoothly. The French officers would be ousted, the Nizam would be in the debt of England and, best of all, not one life had been lost in achieving this result. For that, Arthur felt his heart swell with pride as he gazed out across the camp and let the warm rays of the rising sun wash over his face.

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

‘Egypt?’ Arthur’s eyebrows rose in astonishment. ‘When did they invade?’

‘At the start of July,’ Henry replied. ‘A large army, well over twenty thousand men according to our agents’ reports. The commander is one of their rising stars, a General Bonaparte.’

‘Bonaparte,’ Arthur mused wryly. Once again the young French general was making his mark. ‘What do we know of his intentions?’