Ten minutes passed, and no flags.

Then a gun from the south-east corner fired.

His heart sank.

Lindesay’s orders were to begin the assault only when he himself sent word.

‘Gentlemen, I have done my best to spare blood. But now no longer. Come.’

He would lead the storming of the breach himself.

‘Wait! General – look!’

Not flags, but clothes of every colour being waved, and muskets and swords thrown from the walls like ballast from a foundering ship.

And then the drawbridge was coming down, and men not waiting for it but jumping into the water, rats from the same ship.

‘By heavens, General, it’s worked!’ Parry was almost beside himself.

‘Now God be thanked,’ said Hervey quietly.

And Fairbrother; and his steam engines; and Shaw, from the black pits of Somerset. And Fairbrother’s hijdas; he prayed most earnestly they were safe. And the young men that were spies went in, and brought out Rahab, and her father, and her mother, and her brethren, and all that she had …

But no, he himself would go in – and his young men – and bring out the Ranee ‘and all that she had’.

Worsley brought the Sixth forward, their orders to enter the fortress at once to see what was what and do what they could. (No orders could have been more specific; for how even could Hervey have been sure the mine would explode, let alone the wall collapse and the garrison surrender?)

They lost no time, only the press of deserting men slowing them.

But Hervey could watch no longer. Down he galloped – Parry, Acton, half a dozen cornets and orderlies, the baboo and now Fairbrother all hurtling after him like a field in full cry.

The flat of the sword hastened their way up the droog and over the drawbridge.

Inside was the litter of siege – the bodies of the dead, the wounded, the cowering. The dragoons were making order of it, at least, and Worsley was already into the citadel. The hijdas, crowded in a corner of the bailey, began jabbering when Fairbrother appeared, rushing to him with their skirts held high.

‘Huzoor! Huzoor!’ – and a flood of words that only the baboo might understand.

‘Sahib, they say man who kill wife of Colonel Bell is here, and also dewan is fast in tower.’ The baboo pointed to the turret commanding the drawbridge.

Hervey jumped from the saddle. It was time to take his prisoner. It was a poor place to hide, but doubtless he hadn’t had opportunity to choose.

Fairbrother was intent on the killer of Mira Bai, however. ‘Where, Abhina?’

Abhina pointed to half a dozen men crouching by the wall of the bastion. Not soldiers, certainly.

‘Accha.’

Hervey saw, and went with him. (Ashok Acharya could wait – in fear and trembling, he hoped.)

The men huddled the more, doubtless expecting the worst.

‘Which one, Abhina?’

Abhina pointed.

Hervey told the baboo to make him show his face.