No, all he could do was keep Georgiana and Annie at a safe distance so they could make away fast if the tables turned. It was all a gamble; of course it was. Yet Hervey himself always said ‘First reckon, then risk’, and this he had. But he’d risked a great deal more than he ought, had he not?

The village had seemed empty enough when they’d first passed through. Now it looked deserted, with no sign even of the sweet-lime-seller. (Doubtless there were lookouts at even the meanest of places, and a returning dust-cloud spelled trouble.) Whether the villagers would have been help or hindrance was a moot point, but a deserted place might easily unnerve the thugs.

He made his decision. As soon as they got to the little maidan where they’d stopped and bought the sweet limes, he’d order them to lay out their baggage and unload the carts, while he and the others stayed mounted. At the first hint of trouble he and Johnson would loose off their pistols, charge and set about them with the sabre. It would be furious, bloody slaughter and they’d take down a dozen maybe. The rest would flee. That was the rule in India: when confronted by a superior host, charge without hesitation. But for the moment, it was shepherd work, and the flock was biddable.

As they reached the maidan, though, the ‘sheep’ suddenly became restless.

‘Johnson!’ he barked.

But before the pistols were out, the wolf was on the fold. Or rather, the wolves – Armstrong and his men – and circling it.

‘Mr St Alban, sir!’

‘Sar’nt-Major!’

Sabres sealed the exits. The maidan was now a pen; there was no escape.

‘Mr St Alban, sir, a word if you please …’

XIV

Prudential Judgement

Sthambadree, a week later

‘Arjan Brar taken by ruse – the nicest work you’d imagine. And all accomplished without my knowing a thing; indeed, while I took my ease here with a month’s worth of the Gazette.’ Hervey smiled at the thought of it.

Somervile sipped his coffee with a look of satisfaction. His arrival, though causing something of a stir – the Governor’s Bodyguard was no less splendid a sight for being ten days on the road – had come as little surprise, for Hervey’s old friend could never quite resist seeing things for himself. It was a weakness, if weakness it was, that had nearly cost him his life at the Cape. Besides, when they’d first met, Somervile had been at Guntoor. The Northern Circars he regarded still as his. It was entirely proper, he said, that he should make a personal visit, as he did to many of the districts. A single visit saved a hundred letters.

‘So you’ve commended St Alban or reprimanded him?’

Hervey smiled again. ‘My informants told me that Armstrong left no words unsaid in the latter regard. And Georgiana certainly didn’t in the former.’

‘I am glad to hear it. Audaces fortuna juvat. I look forward to hearing what Sleeman has to say.’