And immediately it was brought. Amit helped him out of his morning shirt and into the clean linen.

St Alban thanked him. He’d persevere with this strange language of the Hindoos. He’d not be beaten by it, even if he did intend going home in a year or so. It was his duty; and besides, he hated a show of incapability. Perhaps, like others, he ought to engage a ‘sleeping dictionary’, but women could be a deuced distraction; native women especially. Besides, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look Miss Hervey in the eye.

If only the moonshee were back.

At the guardhouse the picket turned out and presented arms. Hervey checked the reins with the merest flex of the finger, bringing Minnie to a walk – no one rode past the guardhouse at the trot, even when there was but a single sentry – touched the peak of his forage cap with the top of his whip, then made across the empty parade ground for regimental headquarters. St Alban stood waiting on the verandah.

‘Good afternoon, Colonel.’

‘I trust you’ll think so,’ said Hervey, giving Minnie a pat and handing her to an orderly.

St Alban knew the pat meant there was work afoot.

‘Is the major at office?’

‘He’s not. He and the quartermaster have gone to the Black Town.’

Hervey looked puzzled. ‘Why so?’

St Alban looked equally puzzled. It was true that there was no detail of a regiment that was beyond an adjutant’s purview, but there were limits to a man’s capacity. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know, Colonel. Is there anything amiss?’

‘No … I … I had wished to tell the major of his success in his scheme. The governor has commuted Askew’s sentence to transportation for life. You may make the arrangements forthwith.’

‘I shall, Colonel, and very glad of it.’ The arrangements, given the interminable ways of the law, would now mean an appeal against the commuted sentence by Askew himself. It would be months before his passage, even if there were a ship working south. ‘I’ll go with the sar’nt-major at once and inform him … No, that won’t do. I’ll send word to him.’

‘No, Edward, I think your first instinct was the better. Bad news directly from the top, yes, and good news down the chain of command, but there are exceptions: a life and death business is no small thing.’

As they passed the defaulters’ room Hervey caught a glimpse of home service uniform.

‘That was Cornet Kynaston, I presume,’ he said sympathetically, taking off his cap as they came into his office.

‘Yes, Colonel. Arrived this morning and just presented himself. His letter’s on your desk. I’ve sent for the senior cornet.’

‘Well, we must hope he arrives before Kynaston expires, and gets him into tropicals. Have you had chance to speak?’

‘I have. A fine fellow. Oh, and he brought out a draft of fifteen.’

‘I would see him now, then, before he wilts any further. Give me chance to read his letter … Has the sar’nt-major braced the new draft yet?’