‘Baird’s the man right enough, sir. But why am I to be denied my place at the head of the 33rd?’

‘If the attack goes badly I’ll need you to retrieve the situation. And if the attack fails, then it is vital that a path is kept open through which Baird and his men can retreat. That is why you are the best man to command the reserve, just as Baird is the best man to lead the attack.’

Arthur’s heart was warmed by his superior’s praise. ‘I apologise, sir. I should not have questioned your orders.’

‘No. You shouldn’t. Besides, there is another reason for keeping you out of the assault column.’

‘Sir?’

‘You’ll find out soon enough, assuming that we defeat Tipoo tomorrow.’

The last men of the assault columns were in position shortly before dawn rose across the lush green landscape surrounding Seringapatam. They carried only their muskets and a haversack for their cartridges to ensure that they were not encumbered as they negotiated the rubble that sloped up to the breach. As soon as they were in place, their officers ordered them to sit down and stay still. The sun rose up out of the light haze that hung over the verdant landscape, but as soon as it was high enough for the warmth of its rays to be felt the temperature rose quickly.Within an hour the men in the trenches, huddled together, began to stew in the heat of the Indian day. Around them, in view of the enemy, the engineers began work on a new battery close to the river’s edge in an attempt to mislead Tipoo about the imminence of an attack. The siege guns continued a monotonous bombardment of a section of the wall some distance upriver of the breach, while a handful of sepoy pickets patrolled the banks of the south Cauvery to discourage any attempt by the enemy to probe the lines of General Harris’s army.

Just after eleven in the morning Arthur made his way forward. He found Baird with the men of the ‘forlorn hope’: a handful of volunteers led by a sergeant whose task it was to rush the breach and hold it long enough for the main column to advance through the gap. Baird had brought a jug of arrack with him and it was being passed around the men as Arthur squatted down beside the massive Scottish officer. Baird eyed him suspiciously as they exchanged a quick salute.

‘What can I do for you, young Wellesley?’

Arthur stiffened slightly at being addressed in this manner, but then held out his hand. ‘I came to wish you good luck, sir.’

‘Good luck, eh?’ Baird nodded, then took Arthur’s hand in his great fist and squeezed it firmly as he shook.‘That’s damn good of you. Thank you. Here, Sergeant Graham, give me that jug.’