‘Fer instance, this jaunt we just bin on. The cap’n gets three sepoy companies he never set eyes on afore - an’ tells ’em straight he’s marchin’ forty miles in seventeen hours. They wasn’t pleased, began growlin’ like. So the cap’n hops off his ’oss an’ marches every foot o’ the bleedin’ way, joshin’ that a cavalryman outwalks ’em. Stung their pride, an’ made the beggars laugh. Ruddy wonderful, he is!’
‘A forced march indeed. What exactly was its purpose?’
‘He wanted to take a town called Droog, an’ so he did. Got there afore sunrise, unlimbered at a distance all the guns but one six-pounder, man-dragged ’em into case shot range o’ the walls, an’ mustered the sepoys in column o’ storm athwart the gate - wi’ nary a squeak from the town. ’Twas dark as a first-rate’s orlop, but he’d seen the ground afore an’ knew it like his hand.’
‘In case shot range?’ Todd exclaimed. ‘Amaury took native soldiers within two or three hundred yards of the enemy in complete silence? Incredible!’
‘I told yer, sir - he’s a marvel. An’ then, just afore light he gallops that six-pounder, a’ready loaded wi’ roundshot, to point blank range o’ the gate, whips the piece around an’ blows the doors apart. Meanwhile we opens up wi’ case shot on the ramparts. The cap’n leads the stormers in, charges straight to the fort, draggin’ the gun arter, an’ shoots the gate open. His sepoys takes the fort - most on them Moors was asleep an’ dreamin’ - leaves a company inside an’ sallies out again to clear the curtain wall. All done in thirty minutes!’
‘Did the garrison not put up a fight?’
‘Not so’s yer’d notice. Had ’em by surprise, see? Who’d ’a thought the troops they’d chased forty miles away would night-march back an’ board?’ Welladvice drank toddy, wiped a hand across his mouth and filled a short clay pipe. ‘Killed a few in the fort, an’ was checked fer a time at a bastion. I hammered it wi’ roundshot - three salvoes from five guns - an’ they came out meek as lambs.’
‘However, they resisted, and I surmise Amaury in reprisal sacked the town?’
‘Surely he sacked it, but peaceful-like.’ Welladvice pulled a length of slowmatch from his pocket, struck steel on tinder, lighted the spunyam, held it to his pipe and doused the glowing tip in the arrack jar. ‘Lends the toddy flavour,’ he explained. ‘No- the cap’n ain’t the sort fer sheddin’ blood unmerited.’
Contentedly puffing smoke, the sailor described how Amaury disarmed the garrison and sent criers round the town to reassure the populace. Sabre point at throat he persuaded the Bhonsla’s mirasdar - a trembling plump Maratha - to conduct him to the vault where his treasure was kept. The wealth a lantern’s flame revealed made Amaury whistle: gold mohurs and bars of gold, pagodas sealed in bags, rupees in wooden casks. The mirasdar quaveringly explained that when the Bhonsla abandoned Dharia he transferred the capital’s treasure to Droog; afterwards, so Amaury gathered, the mirasdar had collected in his vaults all the taxes he could levy, meanwhile assuring his master not a fanam could he extract.
‘Ninety thousand rupees’ worth the cap’n loaded on his carts. Then he smashed the matchlocks, spiked the cannon - savin’ a company o’ brass six-pounders he took off - an’ enlisted fifty Mewaris he found among the garrison.’
‘An uncommonly profitable expedition.’ So this was how freebooters paid their way! ‘Amaury left the townsfolk and their property untouched?’
‘In course. Told ’em Droog was part o’ his jagir, an’ he didn’t harm his people. He sent that mirasdar packin’ to Nagpur, appointed a senior risaldar in his place, fixed the taxes they should pay - don’t understand all that meself - and had ’em, in the end, eatin’ out o’ his hand!’
‘And then returned here?’
‘Not instanter.’ Welladvice chuckled. ‘All that lovely loot whetted the cap’n’s appetite, like; so he took a flyin’ column - cavalry, two companies an’ two three-pounder gallopers - across the border into Berar. Enemy country, he says - let’s help ourselves!’
Marching by night and moving at speed, zigzagging from target to target, Amaury’s men had fallen on four villages unawares- and threatened fire and carnage unless they paid a ransom.
These shocking pounces; out of the darkness before dawn discouraged opposition; the raiders killed a few who fought and ceded quarter instantly to every man who yielded. Loot was the objective, and killing wasted time. Loading the booty on carts they streaked rapidly back to Droog.
‘Reckon he collected another eighty thousand rupees. An’ arter that lot,’ Welladvice concluded, ‘we comes home.’
A soldier in the gun park, swabbing a six-pounder, scraped his sponge staff in the bore. Welladvice jumped to his feet. Todd, oblivious of the bellowed abuse that volleyed from the veranda, leaned chin on fist and thought. The Bhonsla would not tolerate indefinitely the seizure of his jagir; so Amaury ruled a minor state which his powerful neighbour must speedily crush. And why raid into Berar, which positively invited reprisals? Was he mad, the ensign wondered; had power - such as it was - addled his head? How could he convince this merciless freebooter, this Company officer transformed to native princeling, that a richer destiny awaited him among his fellow English? He remembered Caroline, and shuddered. She had no conception of Amaury’s changed appearance, nor of the ruthless qualities which Welladvice revealed. She had fallen in love with an elegant, civilized dandy; how would she welcome the vulturine, brutal brigand? , Todd sighed. The hand was dealt and the cards were down. He would see Amaury first, try to persuade his return - an utterly futile effort - and break the news of Caroline’s presence.
‘Leave him alone today,’ Welladvice advised. ‘He’ll be sortin’ out affairs that happened while he was gone. Never rests, the cap’n - dunno when he sleeps. I’ll take yer to him termorrer. That young feller with yer - who is it, sir, Mr Fane? - will he be comin’ as well?’
Todd choked on a gulp of arrack, and saved himself an answer.
Petitioners, clerks, officials and guards thronged an antechamber which opened on the citadel’s audience hall. Welladvice, shouldering through the crowd, led Todd beneath an archway, carved and fretted in the Moghul style, into a long gloomy room marble-floored in chequers of red and black; aisles of polished sandstone pillars supported horseshoe arches carrying the roof. The monsoon’s storm-black clouds filtered a leaden light through windows high in the walls. Under a sculpted marble canopy Amaury sat tailor-wise on a pile of crimson cushions. He wore a high-collared jade-green robe: a servant swished a fan above his head. Vedvyas stood beside him, splendidly attired in a gilt-encrusted tunic, hands crossed on his scimitar’s hilt. Rahtor troopers, sword blades sloped on shoulders, sentinelled the throne in an arc; scribes in loose white garments rustled papers; a secretary’s scratching quill chased Amaury’s dictation.
Guarded by peon spearmen, two half-naked natives waited with hanging heads. Amaury ignored them, and continued his dictation.
An oriental potentate directed his realm’s affairs.
Amaury gave the prisoners a long, contemplative look. He said quietly, ‘You committed highway robbery at Pettingah four days ago. Have you anything to say?’
The men stayed silent, staring at the ground.
‘Very well. You will both be taken to the place of your crime, your hands and feet will be severed, and you will be left to bleed to death. Take them away.’
The guard hustled them out. Amaury signed a letter the secretary presented. Welladvice saw Todd’s shaken expression. ‘Swift justice,’ he murmured hoarsely, ‘wot the Moors can unnerstand. They can’t plumb our pleadin’ an’ lawyers an’ all that mumbo-jumbo. Come on!’
They advanced to the throne, feet clattering the floor. Welladvice touched fingertip to brow. ‘Mr Todd, sir, come from Bahrampal to see yer.’
Amaury folded a document and nodded, unsurprised. ‘Welcome, Henry. They told me you were here. A moment, by your leave.’ He perused a paper, scribbled an endorsement, rose and gripped Todd’s hand in both his own. ‘De
ucedly glad to see you, indeed! I suppose you have some serious purpose in visiting my distant fastness. Pray divulge it while we try a cask of Canary wine a trader has brought me lately from Hyderabad!’
He led Todd to rooms on an upper floor, furnished in a curious mingling of oriental and European modes: Mr Sheraton’s walnut bureaus elbowed Benares brassware, spindly gilt-painted chairs, reminiscent of guillotined Louis’s court, flanked ornate mahogany tables. A servant poured the wine; Amaury sipped, and smacked his lips. ‘Amazing tolerable, considering the casks were jolted on camels over several hundred miles! Now, Henry, how may I serve you?’
Here was the sticking-point, the crisis of his mission. All the plausible pleadings he had rehearsed, and every rational argument, scattered from his memory like dreams that vanish at cockcrow. Todd stared at his feet, and blurted unhappily, ‘Hugo, as a friend I venture to persuade you . . . return to the Carnatic, resume your proper place . . . this barbarous existence, unfitting for a gentleman, an officer... outlawed from society…’
He stammered into silence.
A smile brushed the comers of Amaury’s mouth. ‘You mistake my resolution, Henry. This is no casual adventure, no temporary escape from the troubles and misfortunes which beset me in Madras. That life is done with, gone for good. I have turned my back on the Company, on the English and English ways. I have carved for myself a native realm, and in Hindostanee fashion I shall rule it till I die. Captain Hugo Amaury of the 7th Madras Light Cavalry is dead, and Umree Sahib of Dharia reigns triumphant in his place!’
‘After seeing your fortress, your soldiers and retainers,’ Todd said miserably, ‘I myself am forced to the same conclusion. When yesterday I saw you riding through the barbican I knew my enterprise had failed. ‘Twas a stupid venture from the start, inspired by our friendship ... a desire to save your honour ... a foolish interference. Pray forgive my presumption. I had best return directly.’
Amaury studied his desolate face, and thoughtfully regarded the rain gusts spattering the windows. ‘The monsoon makes bad travelling. Should your leave of absence permit, remain a month or two till the worst is past. I can afford you entertainment and, if you are inclined, a taste of military duty. I conceive that your companion - Anstruther, is it, or Fane? - will not object?’
Todd braced himself. ‘Neither Anstruther nor Fane. Miss Caroline Wrangham insisted on sharing my quest.’
Todd had never known Amaury staggered; he saw him now aghast. ‘Caroline--! God in heaven! For what reason? Why in the devil’s name did you permit her? Come on, man, don’t flammer! Let me have it plain!’
‘ ‘Twas blackmail. She threatened to betray my plans to Marriott, who would certainly have stopped me going.’ Todd paused uncertainly. ‘She is, I believe - nay, I know it for certain - entirely in love with you, Hugo. Her sentiment has driven Caroline beyond delicacy or decorum, and inspired a behaviour which abandons all propriety. She has sacrificed for you her reputation; and nothing, now, is left for her but you.’
Amaury unstoppered a brandy decanter, poured himself a bumper, drank it down. ‘Damn my blood, the girl is raving mad! When has she displayed the smallest disposition for my company? Never - neither in Madras nor Bahrampal! Rather, as I recollect, the opposite.’ A fierce, calculating look swept the stupefaction from his face. ‘By God, disastrous issues could attend this escapade! An Englishwoman lost in a native state! Enough to bring the Madras Army in chase - aye, and Bombay’s and Bengal’s too!’ His anger exploded like a blast of flame. ‘Jesus, what have you two young idiots done? I can’t fight Company troops!’
Todd flinched from his searing rage. ‘I believe your apprehensions needless, Hugo. General Wrangham is strong against the military invading native states; and the India Act of ’84--’
‘Damn Wrangham, damn your Act! Don’t you realize the English temper when Moormen - as they suppose - risk an English female’s virtue? They will dive for my throat with horse and foot and guns!’ Amaury sat on the edge of a chair and clenched his firsts. ‘I shall speak to Caroline, and slam her back to Hurrondah fast as a horse can gallop!’
‘I hope,’ said Todd glumly, ‘your persuasions will succeed - but I have my doubts.’
From day to day Amaury, unwontedly irresolute, postponed meeting Caroline. When his temper cooled he chewed the problem, and concluded that, as Todd had said, a Company-mounted force would not invade Berar. An effort of some kind would undoubtedly be made: Wrangham was not the man tamely to let his daughter vanish without trace. He guessed enough of her character - a wilful, obstinate fool! - to divine that having come so far she might flatly refuse to leave. No practical means existed to compel her. Truss her up and bind her on a camel, like the baggage she was? A pleasing notion, the treatment she deserved - but quite impractical. No - he would have to see the girl, emphasize forcibly but civilly her impossible behaviour, the disgraceful impropriety; and convince her that a rapid return to Bahrampal, before the scandal percolated the whole of John Company’s India, might possibly preserve her reputation’s remnants.
Todd’s version of her motive was perfectly ridiculous! Amaury considered her escapade merely stressed - to an outrageous degree - the wayward eccentricities which had stigmatized her conduct since coming to Madras. He recalled her riding astride - odiously shameful! - and pistol shooting - hardly a proper accomplishment for delicate females! - and a series of startling episodes culminating in her infamous appearance with a warlike expedition to the Circars. And now this! Amaury chuckled despite his wrath: he had always liked Caroline, and secretly admired her headstrong idiosyncrasies, so unlike the puling meek propriety which virtuous parents imposed on dutiful daughters. There was much of himself in her nature: a gay disregard for polite opinion, and a hard determination to win her heart’s desire.
Could Todd possibly be right, he wondered uneasily: was he himself the prize that Caroline wanted? Infernal nonsense! No sensible female would cast in her lot with a broken, outcast officer gone native!
Discovering that Caroline strolled the ramparts every evening Amaury, from a bastion’s cover, watched her walking arm in arm with Todd. Frowningly he scanned the short-cropped auburn hair-which curled on her shoulders, the gold-tanned skin, the slanting eyebrows, emerald eyes and mobile lips. A broadcloth coat - on loan from Todd - hugged her slender body; nankeen breeches and ribbed silk stockings clothed shockingly beautiful legs. She looked like a graceful, handsome boy; only the lilt of her voice, and an unguarded trill of laughter betrayed her sex to an English ear. A pretty pretence! thought Amaury: here’s a cursedly lovely girl thrust unwanted into my life, and the sooner she is out of it the better. No more shilly-shallying; speak firmly and send her home.
He despatched a messenger to Todd.
Amaury was completely unprepared for the feminine vision - straw bonnet on chestnut curls, green-striped sarsenet gown - which Todd ushered into his rooms. He bowed stiffly, swallowed, and said, ‘Pray accept my apologies, Miss Wrangham, for not receiving you earlier. I have been much engaged in business since you - ah - honoured Dharia with your presence.’
The serenity of her countenance revealed no hint of the turmoil in Caroline’s mind. During the flight from Hurrondah she had decided a course of conduct: she would frankly avow her passion, appeal to her beloved’s chivalry and throw herself on his mercy - an approach which now she instantly rejected. Neither chivalry nor mercy belonged to this bearded, gold-haired pirate whose cold blue eyes showed nothing but hostility.
Caroline dropped a curtsey. ‘I am conscious, sir, my visit is not entirely convenient. If you will--’
‘Neither convenient nor desirable, Miss Wrangham! I shall not inquire your reasons for this deplorable adventure since, whatever they may be, they will not alter my determination that you remove yourself directly to Bahrampal. Transport is available so soon as you are ready!’
Caroline said tranquilly, ‘Pray let me speak, Captain Amaury - and what I have to say is private for your ears. Therefore oblige me by dismis
sing your servants. Henry, kindly wait for me outside.’
Todd sent her an anxious look, and caught an almost imperceptible nod. Amaury brusquely beckoned his attendants out. Caroline sank gracefully into a chair, arranged the folds of her gown and opened an ivory fan which dangled from a wrist. Not a flick of an eyelash revealed her dismayed astonishment at Amaury’s surroundings: the tasteless medley of furniture, garish rugs and druggets, a rime of dust on everything, the acrid tang of incense and curry smells and sewage, and falsetto native voices squabbling beyond the windows. Dear God, she thought irrelevantly, give me but half a day and I’ll sort this pigsty out!
‘Mr Todd has told you why he came?’
Amaury moved impatiently. ‘Indeed. He had some foolish notion of persuading my return. I will not leave Dharia, and so I have informed him. Henry sees his endeavour wasted; and will remove to Bahrampal when the monsoon ends.’
‘He gave no reason for my accompanying him?’
‘He did. An explanation so fantastic as to be beyond belief.’ Amaury paused; embarrassment touched his face, was chased away by a scowl. ‘Henry thinks you so enamoured of myself - ah, why waste time in balderdash! Your motives do not signify. Such shocking conduct--’
‘To convince Mr Todd I must go to Dharia,’ said Caroline calmly, ‘I pretended an ungovernable desire to join you, Captain Amaury. But I was prompted by quite different reasons.’
‘Am I permitted to know them?’
‘Certainly. I have long entertained a fondness for Henry Todd, and wished to share the hazards he braved on your behalf.’ Amaury looked disconcerted. ‘Oh. I see... I was not aware...’ He said forcibly, ‘Upon my conscience, I had not imagined you a nursemaid! Nor does Henry need coddling! A grown man--’
‘No more than a boy, in truth.’ Caroline fluttered her lashes. ‘He has such a sweet, confiding nature, so appealing to a woman’s sensibilities. His manners are so superior, quite unlike--’
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