The rope severed at the second cut. He let go of the brow-band and grabbed for the return line. He got but a touch – enough, though, for a desperate man – and both hands grasped it vice-like as the current swept the gelding away.
He began shouting, but against the spate it was like a whisper. Fairbrother, waiting at the point where the horses got their first footing, just had a glimpse of the loosed gelding – and thought the worst.
He ran back to the tether point and began pulling on the line. Resistance meant it was fouled – or there was a dragoon clinging to it. ‘Give me a minute and then haul in!’ he shouted to Cornet Blanche and the others, stripping off his tunic and boots. Then once more he dived into the slack water.
Blanche counted to sixty and then began hauling. In another minute it was done – the two of them dragged to the bank, Kelly exhausted, Fairbrother little better.
Corporal White was first to speak. ‘Sir, if I may say so, that was a rare brave thing you did, an’ we’s awful thankful for it. Isn’t that right, Micky me old pal?’
Private Kelly was still on his hands and knees, with Corporal White’s sodden cloak about him. ‘We is, sir; right thankful o’ it. Can you ’ave a see for my Ben, Chalky?’
Fairbrother, gathering up his clothes and attempting to dry himself a third time, was more touched by the accolade than he might have imagined. ‘Well, let us try to get the rest across without recourse to the same measures. Where’s the rope? We must needs make a new loop and then get it to the other side.’
Johnson saw the candle-signal, and hauled on the return rope as fast as he could.
Back came the tow-rope; but with no moon – and no immediate prospect of it – Hervey had had enough. ‘No, Sar’nt-Major. They will have to go to it with the men they have. I’ll get word across in an oilskin. Have the party form up. We join the rest of the regiment.’
X
Just after four o’clock, an hour or so before first light, Hervey arrived at the regimental contact point, a knoll half a mile to the south-east of Fifield (it was a most opportune rendezvous that Lord Holderness had fixed on before the troops had gone to their tasks).
‘So ho, Hervey! Where is the colonel?’
Captain Worsley sounded unusually hale, thought Hervey as the party jingled up the hill. ‘He is at the river, still. Is Vanneck here?’
‘
Hervey reckoned the mood was evidently infectious: doubtless the ride through Eton High-street brought memories. ‘I would speak to the two of you.’
They drew aside, remaining mounted. Hervey lowered his voice nonetheless. ‘Lord Holderness was taken by a fit as he crossed the river. He damn well nearly drowned. The surgeon’s with him. He says he will recover quickly, but I don’t believe he’ll be able to take the reins again for a good few hours.’
‘What do you propose, Hervey?’ asked Worsley, sounding now less hale.
‘
‘Yes.’
There was something in the tone of that shortest of replies which conveyed offence at the notion they would think otherwise. But he was taking no chances: once a general smelled blood, so to speak, he would hound the wretched quarry until it were done for – and Hervey had no desire to see Lord Holderness brought down (and even less the regiment with him). ‘Where is the sar’nt-major?’
‘He’s checking the pickets,’ said Vanneck.
‘Very well, I’ll tell him on return.’ Mr Rennie, whom Lord Holderness had brought with him from the Fourth, already enjoyed the confidence of the officers, though Hervey himself did not know him. The RSM and the adjutant were the only two others whom he considered it necessary to inform of the colonel’s true situation.
‘The party otherwise crossed safely?’ asked Worsley.
Hervey recovered himself. ‘Yes, forgive me: they are, but only a handful. Kelly near drowned. I could not risk any others. Blanche is across. Fairbrother and he shall have to do the business.’ It had been the idea that Hervey would lead the party, but Worsley and Vanneck must know that with the colonel hors de combat Hervey was obliged to take his place.