Free The Cannons of Lucknow by V. A. Stuart

here as soon as all our men are across the river. The general has had hundreds of coolies working to build an entrenchment on the Baxi Ghat, where already he’s had two guns mounted to cover the crossing. It’s a well-chosen site, with the river on one side and the canal on the other, and it’s high enough up to cover the approaches from the city as well. The coolies have worked well—the breastwork is considerably higher, even now, than poor General Wheeler’s and I’m told that, when completed, the walls will be fifteen feet thick, turfed over, and fitted with sallyports and properly constructed gun platforms.”
    â€œSurely that will take time?” Alex ate his curry with unexpected relish.
    Lousada Barrow shook his head. “The final touches will, but the general is satisfied that enough will have been done before he leaves with the main body to enable Neill to hold it with three hundred men.” He laid a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “It will be a different proposition altogether from Wheeler’s, Alex, and the guns we brought in from Bithur will be used for its defence. Poor old Wheeler did make a grave error in siting his entrenchment so far from the river, you know, and mounting so few light guns.”
    Perhaps that was true, Alex thought unhappily. He pushed his plate away and shook his head to the mess khitmatgar ’s proffered basket of fresh mangoes. Barrow passed him a cheroot and they left the table together and went to sit in the tent which served as an anteroom. It was deserted save for two civilian Volunteers who were dozing over their coffee, and when Barrow had finished his, he took out his pocket-watch.
    â€œThe crossing is due to start about midnight,” he said. “I suppose, in spite of the rain, we ought to watch it, don’t you? But we can snatch a few hours’ sleep before going down to the ghat .”
    Alex agreed resignedly, stiffing a yawn. He was becoming accustomed to lack of sleep; it seemed a lifetime since he had been able to enjoy a full night’s rest, but at least the few hours Lousada Barrow had promised him need no longer be spent on the bare ground with his horse tethered beside him, alternately drenched by rain and burned and blistered by the fierce June sun. Tents had arrived with the baggage train and were springing up like mushrooms within sight of the burned-out, looted ruins of the bungalows and barracks which had originally housed the garrison, so that some degree of comfort was now possible. For the next week, at any rate, all save the unfortunate Highlanders could count on being able to sleep under cover which, in view of the present ceaseless downpour, would make a welcome change.
    â€œI think I’ll turn in now, if you don’t mind, Lou.” Alex got stiffly to his feet, stifling another involuntary yawn. “I’m planning a fairly active day tomorrow. For a start I want to have the old Riding School cleared and the roof patched up—the Pandies had a twenty-four-pounder battery sited there and they’ve left it in a hell of a state. But I fancy the new boys will learn a good deal faster if they’re under cover, and we’ll knock up fewer horses if—”
    â€œGood Lord, I nearly forgot!” Barrow interrupted apologetically. “My memory isn’t what it was, I’m afraid. You won’t be free tomorrow morning, Alex. The general has ordered the trial of that subedar of the 17th—the one we brought in from Bithur. The trial is to take place tomorrow morning at eight-thirty, at the Kotwalee, I think, under the presidency of one of the Queen’s regiments’ commanding officers … and you’ll be required as a witness. You—”
    â€œOh, for heaven’s sake!” Alex began in frustration. “If I’m to train those recruits, then surely—”
    â€œThe trial will not take up much of your time,” Barrow assured him.