Free Hervey 08 - Company Of Spears by Allan Mallinson Page B

District Orders and all. It was not the thing of which a successful tenure of command was made.
    ‘If there is the slightest risk of contagion then I am of a mind to shoot them forthwith.’
    But Sam Kirwan shook his head. ‘It would not be scientific to say that there is not the slightest risk, but I would not think it probable. I have observed that in such cases the virus takes a hold in the air even before the sick animal is removed, or even in the blood, yet does not show itself for several days. I very much fear that if it is glanders then A Troop’s horses will be already infected. The important thing will be to keep them from the others. But I am unconvinced that it is glanders, only less so than that it is the farcy.’
    ‘The two are horribly of a piece. Have you spoken to the adjutant so?’
    ‘I have. He has given orders, I understand, for exercise at different times.’
    They looked at the other occupants of the infirmary in turn, and then parted respectfully, though Hervey left the lines by no means certain they were following the right course. Destroying three troop horses which might perfectly well recover, which might indeed have nothing worse than a cold, was not something to be ordered lightly; but the well-being of four hundred more was his principal responsibility. What was certain was that his reputation would never recover if his troopers did not. He would consider it carefully and speak with the veterinarian again in the morning.
    By the time he reached his quarters in the officers’ house, the picket had alerted Private Johnson, and a good fire was taking hold in the hearth in his sitting room.
    ‘Ah thought tha were comin back afore now, sir. Ah didn’t know what to do.’
    Perhaps it was the separation – Hervey was not usually without his groom for more than a day or so – but the vowels of Johnson’s native county sounded particularly alien. It was curious: Johnson had left those parts twenty years ago and more, had never returned save once, and very briefly, and heard them only in the speech of Corporal Stray and a few others, yet they had not moderated in the slightest. Indeed, Hervey was quite convinced that they had become more pro-nounced of late, as if Johnson took some sort of perverse refuge in them.
    ‘I was caught by the fever again, I’m afraid. Nor was I sure you would be still here.’
    Johnson’s brow furrowed. ‘What’s tha mean, sir?’
    ‘The Bow-street men.’
    Johnson muttered indistinctly and began poking the fire.
    ‘Well?’
    He stood up, though his shoulders remained hunched. ‘T’serjeant-major says ah’ve got to go there in t’mornin, to Bow-street, ah mean.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘Don’t know, sir.’
    ‘What do you mean you “don’t know”? They must have given a reason.’
    ‘Ah’ve got to see t’magistrate.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘Don’t know.’
    Hervey sighed. Long experience told him that when Johnson was in such a mood it was better to drop the subject. He would speak with the sarn’t-major in the morning. Even before the veterinarian.
    ‘Will tha be eating in t’mess, sir?’
    ‘I think, very probably, yes.’ But he had not yet read Lord George’s letter; and there was Peto’s to reply to … and Kat’s. ‘There again … I’ve work to do, and it was a hard drive. Come back at five with tea, would you? I’ll decide then.’
    It was ten minutes before Johnson was satisfied that the fire had taken a good hold and the lamps were properly trimmed. He opened a bottle of claret, decanted it, poured a glass and set it down on the wine table beside the fire. He cleared a space on the writing table, muttered something about hot water, made to leave, and then remembered something. ‘Oh, ah’m sorry, sir. This express came for thee about an ’our ago.’
    Hervey stifled a curse. But he was easier when he saw the hand: Somervile’s – most welcome. He nodded. ‘You might fetch me cake, or some such?’
    When Johnson was gone,