‘Because to be reprieved will require an exceptional act of valour, and the tiger will be wary of human scent. I should add that Askew will have his carbine.’

‘I am relieved to hear it! And he has agreed to this?’

‘He has – and without promise of reprieve. I considered that if I were to ask Somervile first he’d forbid it, not least on grounds of connivance. But in truth, what choice does Askew have? One way or another he might at least die a hero.’

Kezia sighed, still shaking her head in disbelief. ‘And Jacob went out from Beersheba and went toward Haran …’

Hervey smiled. ‘That is the intention, or rather to New South Wales, where he can do hard labour for some Australian Laban and then make his fortune and marry.’

She shook her head. ‘You have a good heart, Matthew Hervey.’

‘I trust so. But not a soft one. My concern is first for the good order of the regiment, not for Askew.’

But he’d no need to tell her that. She’d long understood, from the time of her first marriage, that ‘the interests of the service’ – of the regiment indeed – were above all earthly things. Except that she also knew that Askew, being of the regiment, was a part of that interest.

Then her eyes twinkled. ‘If they return alive from the venture, and with the goat meat, I shall have the langree spice it to taste like venison.’

He laughed – not least in delight at her blitheness. The dark days were truly gone (even if the memory of them lingered obstinately). If the monsoon had done nothing to decrease her spirits, then plainly little else would. And he’d not heard her sport with scripture before. India, it seemed, banished care as well as sorrow.

‘Matthew …’

‘Yes?’

But Serjeant Stray appeared. ‘Begging your pardon, Colonel, ma’am, but Lady Somervile is come.’

VI

La Longue Carabine

Later

The major took with him a syce who had better English than he himself had Hindoostanee – the man might be useful when it came to parleying with the villagers (unless they were all Tamul, in which case they’d have to rely on gesture) – but just one dragoon as escort, the provost corporal. His own coverman was detailed for guard duty that evening and he’d no wish to disrupt the serjeant-major’s carefully laid roster. For his part, Armstrong had been obliging in detailing a provost man largely because Askew remained in close arrest, and it wouldn’t do for him to be in the direct charge of an officer. Corporal Simpson was a sturdy man, and if anything untoward were to happen – Askew proving himself unworthy in some way – he could be relied on to do the right thing. Not that he, Armstrong, expected anything particularly; it was just that men did the strangest things when death stared them in the face, whether by tiger or a squad of carbines.