Flashman In The Great Game by Fraser George Macdonald

Author:Fraser, George Macdonald [Fraser, George Macdonald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humor, Adventure, Historical, Military
ISBN: 9780007217199
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2006-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

By George, thinks I, why not? I was tired, and sick, and it had been the deuce of a long time, what with sieges and cholera and daft Irishmen falling in bogs; this was just the tonic I needed, so I scrambled up, and there she was, all chubby and brown and shiny, giggling on her charpoy and shaking her bouncers at me. I seized hold, nearly crying at this unexpected windfall, and in a twinkling was marching her round the room, horse artillery fashion, while she squeaked and protested that for five rupees I shouldn't be so impatient. I was, though, and it was just as well, for I'd no sooner finished the business than Kavanaugh was under the window, airing his Urdu plaintively in search of me, and wanting to know what was the delay?

I leaned out and cadged five rupees off him, explaining it was a bribe for an old sick man who knew the way; he passed it up, I struggled into my wet fugs, kissed my giggling Delilah goodnight, and scrambled down, feeling fit for anything.

It took us another two hours, though, for Kavanaugh was about done, and we had to keep dodging behind trees to avoid parties of peasants who were making for Lucknow. I was getting a mite alarmed, because the moon was up, and I knew that dawn couldn't be far off; if we were caught by daylight, with Kavanaugh looking as pale as Marley's ghost, we were done for. I cursed myself for a fool, whoring and wasting time when we should have been pushing on — what had I been thinking of? I )'you know, I suddenly realised that in my exasperation with Kavanaugh, and all that aimless wandering in wrong directions, and watching him fall in tanks and canals, I'd forgotten the seriousness of the whole thing — perhaps I was still a trifle light-headed from my illness, but I'd even forgotten my fears. They came back now, though, in full force, as we staggered along; I was about as tuckered as he was, my head was swimming, and I must have Livered the last mile in a walking dream, because the next thing I remember is bearded faces barring our way, and blue-tunicked troopers with white puggarees, and thinking, “These arc 9th Lancers.”

Then there was an officer holding me by the shoulders, and to my astonishment it was Gough, to whom I'd served brandy and smokes on the verandah at Meerut. He didn't know me, but he poured spirits into us, and had us borne down into the camp, where the bugles were blowing, and i he cavalry pickets were falling in, and the flag was going up, and it all looked so brisk and orderly and safe you would have wept for relief — but the cheeriest sight of all, to me, was that crumpled, bony figure outside the headquarter tent, and the dour, wrinkled old face under the battered helmet. I hadn't seen Campbell close to,

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