Hide and Seek for Love

by Barbara Cartland

Outside men walked about casually, as they always did, looking out over the magnificent view.

  David had slept for over four hours without moving when he was woken for dinner.

  A bath was prepared for him and he shaved away his beard and the Major lent him some decent clothes.

  “I apologise for being a nuisance, Major.”

  “You are not a nuisance at all.”

  The Major tried, however, to draw David out into telling him where he had been and what he had done.

  But David kept his mouth shut and assumed an air of nonchalance, refusing to be drawn into conversation. He knew it was always a mistake to confide, even to a fellow officer. Careless words or too much information could result in danger or even death for those who followed him.

  It was a wise provision in The Great Game that no one, as far as possible, knew who was taking part. Every player was only ever referred to as a number.

  David could only hope that the Officers and men of Fort Tibbee would not talk when they went on leave.

  Otherwise, as he was now known to all of them to be in The Great Game, it would make everything he tried to do in the future a thousand times more difficult and very much more dangerous.

  ‘I will speak to them tomorrow,’ he told himself.

  Then he went to the Officer’s Mess for dinner.

  Because Indian servants were present, they talked about sport and the political situation in Calcutta. The new Viceroy, Lord Mayo, had been welcomed with much enthusiasm when he had arrived and he was proving to be an exceptional leader.

  When dinner was finished, they all moved into the room where the Officers congregated after dinner, where there were several card tables set out.

  “Play as we usually do,” the Colonel ordered.

  All the Officers sat down and he joined a group of them at one of the tables.

  David settled himself in an armchair and before he could be bombarded with more questions he fell asleep and, after what they had heard, no one dared to wake him.

  It was midnight before the Colonel rose from his card table,

  “I suggest you now change your clothes and go on duty. Dawn is early and we should be in our proper places well before four o’clock.”

  The Officers then all left the room and the Colonel was left with Major Atkins and David was still fast asleep in the armchair.

  “Shall I wake him, sir?” the Major asked.

  The Colonel shook his head.

  “No, let him sleep. I know just how it feels to be on edge for many days and only sleep can make up for what he has been through.”

  “When shall I wake him, sir?”

  “Just before you come on duty and give him a rifle and a revolver, if he wants one.”

  They both left the room and David slept on.

  It was an hour later that he awoke with a start and instantly alert, he sensed danger.

  Major Atkins told him,

  “We are going on duty now. The Colonel said you are to have a rifle and a revolver – they are beside you.”

  “I have been asleep?” asked David in surprise.

  “You deserved it, Captain.”

  “I will only have deserved it if everything turns out as we hope.”

  David picked up the rifle.

  “Now where do you want me to go?”

  “Where else but with the Colonel in the front line and I will take you there.”

  Major Atkins walked ahead.

  David rubbed his eyes.

  ‘I hope when this is all over,’ he thought to himself, ‘I will be able to sleep the clock round!’

  Then he wondered that, if after all the planning, the Russians might just prevail and Fort Tibbee would fall into their hands.

  This of course would mean disaster for the garrison, but much worse, it would be a deadly blow at British India.

  David drew in his breath in trepidation.

  ‘We must win this battle,’ he determined, ‘and with God’s help we will.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  It was so splendid, David mused triumphantly later, how everything had gone according to plan.

  The soldiers crept into their positions and when he had appeared, the Colonel asked him to stand beside him.

  All they could see faintly in the moonlight was the empty hillsides around them.

  Then, when the men were all in position, there was a poignant silence that combined with the hush that always comes just before dawn.

  To David it was as if the world drew in its breath.

  Suddenly there was a faint movement in some thick grass and just a suspicion of shadows moving from behind rocks in the distance.

  Every man at his post, wherever he was, stiffened.

  It was impossible not to sense the thrill that every soldier knows so well before he goes into action.

  The moon was fading fast and the stars were going out one by one.

  Now David could discern faint movements coming nearer and nearer towards the Fort.

  On the Colonel’s orders no one moved an inch and there was still an overwhelming silence.

  Suddenly, as if on an unseen and unheard command, the front line of the enemy rose to their feet and started to run quickly towards the gates of the Fort.

  As they took their first step the Colonel barked out,

  “Fire!”

  The noise of the rifles seemed to strike the air.

  The first line of advancing tribesmen hesitated and then when those behind them started to move forward, they bumped into them, as they were not moving.

  As tribesmen began to fall, the others dithered.

  Now the British soldiers were firing at them again and again and the enemy were falling one after another.

  It was then the rearmost of the attackers panicked – they turned back and started to run.

  As soon as they did so, those who had been in front of them and were still alive followed.

  On the Colonel’s orders the British soldiers went on firing and only when the last of the enemy was out of range did he give the order to cease fire.

  He turned and put his hand on David’s shoulder.

  “We have won the battle, thanks to your warning, Captain Ingle, and we are all very grateful.”

  It was some time before the tribesmen came back to collect their dead. At first they crawled up apprehensively and then, as they were ignored, they came more boldly and carried the bodies away.

  Watching them from the Fort, David thought it was unlikely that any of the wounded would live for long.

  It was a complete failure that would infuriate the Russians, but there was nothing that they could do about it.

  He was also certain, as was the Colonel when they discussed it, that having failed at Fort Tibbee, the Russians would not try again in a hurry – at any rate not with the same tribesmen, who they would now no longer trust.

  “I am writing a full report,” the Colonel told David, “to the Commander-in-Chief in Calcutta, who will then, of course, convey it to the Viceroy.”

  “I would take it myself, sir, but I am going to ask if I may stay here for a day or two to ease my feet. Walking for three days without sleeping was bad enough, but these Muslim sandals of are not the best footwear for extremely rough mountain paths.”

  The Colonel was most sympathetic and he was also delighted to have David as his guest – he learnt much from him about the current situation over the border in Asia.

  He was worried, as all Commanding Officers were, about Russian expansion, which had been achieved above all thanks to the remarkable work of the Cossacks.

  David enjoyed a short rest at the Fort, but he knew that he must return to his Regiment.

  “I only hope,” the Colonel remarked to him when they were alone, “that they will not want you to take on another mission in The Great Game as soon as you return. But you have been so successful so far that I fear they will be reluctant to let you rest on your laurels.”

  “I do enjoy the work, Colonel, althou
gh sometimes I am amazed to find that I am still alive the next morning!”

  The Colonel laughed.

  “India is deeply in your debt, Captain, and of those of your contemporaries who are playing the same game.”

  “I only hope,” David responded seriously, “that the Government at home in England will realise that we must have more Regiments and more equipment sent to India.”

  “I think that you can trust Lord Mayo to tell them so. He has, I am told, more common sense than any other Viceroy we have ever had.”

  David thought that this was true and on his return to Calcutta, which took him well over a week, he was in fact thinking about the Earl of Mayo.

  He was realising, as a number of others were doing, that he was exactly what India needed.

  When Mr. Disraeli, the Prime Minister, appointed him, he was guided by his intuition.

  It had seemed extraordinary to most of the Cabinet that a forty-six year old Irish Peer should be chosen for one of the most elevated but difficult positions in the Empire.

  The House of Commons had called it an eccentric choice, whilst many others complained that his experience has been entirely in Ireland and had therefore been rude about him.

  Actually, as David knew, after nearly two years in office, the majority, especially those in India, realised that his appointment had been a stroke of genius.

  Lord Mayo was the Head of an ancient Norman Irish clan. He had played only a minor part in politics and had distinguished himself more than in any other way by being an outstanding Master of the Kildare Hunt.

  Why this should qualify him to be Viceroy of India had seemed ridiculous at the time.

  Tall, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, he was a splendid figure of a man and he showed determination and humour in his clean-shaven face.

  Almost as soon as he arrived in India as Viceroy, his enthusiasm, gaiety and kindness of heart contributed to a personal magnetism that few could resist.

  Benjamin Disraeli had appreciated that, having lived through the ‘hungry forties’ in Ireland, he would bring to the famine-ridden land of India his first-hand experience of dealing with hunger in its most horrifying aspects.

  During the Irish famine Lord Mayo had worked for the relief of suffering, spending long hours riding from one stricken area to another.

  This experience had well prepared him for what he was to encounter in India and had made him understanding and sympathetic in a way that would have been impossible for other ordinary men.

  As he had a quick grasp of any problem, he realised soon after his arrival the significance of The Great Game.

  He had made it abundantly clear that he wished to know exactly what was happening and to meet, whenever possible, those who were taking part in it.

  *

  David travelled to Calcutta using many different kinds of conveyance and finally by train.

  He thought, as he did so, that the Viceroy would be exceedingly pleased that by a miracle he had been able to save Fort Tibbee.

  No one knew better than he did what would have happened if he had not arrived when he had and warned the Colonel – the tribesmen and the Russians would undoubtedly by now have killed or taken prisoner the whole garrison and then they would have destroyed the Fort itself.

  When David reached Calcutta, he went at once to report to the Colonel of his Regiment, who as he expected, sent him straight to Government House.

  He never went there without appreciating the great beauty of it.

  Government House dominated Calcutta in a way no other building had ever done.

  Anything he told the Viceroy was secret even from his secretaries and aides-de-camp.

  The Viceroy had been given the time of David’s arrival before he left Regimental Headquarters.

  He arrived exactly on the time appointed and was taken by an Indian servant wearing an elaborate red and white uniform to the Viceroy’s private study.

  It was well known that Lord Mayo rose very early and this enabled him to plough through a large amount of work without sacrificing time for exercise or his night’s sleep.

  When David was shown into his room, the Viceroy was seated at a writing desk in front of the open windows.

  He looked up and there was no doubt that he was genuinely pleased to see David.

  He rose and held out his hand.

  “I am delighted to see you, Captain Ingle. I know you have brought with you some good news and I want to hear every detail of what occurred at Fort Tibbee.”

  He walked from his writing desk and indicated a comfortable chair in front of an open window.

  “Now tell me everything from the very beginning. I am exceedingly interested in what you have discovered in the lands North of the frontier and I am very worried about the continued advance of the Russians.”

  David knew that he had every reason to be so and did not spare any detail from his story.

  He emphasised that in his opinion the British were not giving enough support to the Khanates and small towns lying to the North – in consequence they were forced to capitulate far too readily to the Cossacks.

  The Viceroy listened intently to every word. Only occasionally did he interrupt to ask an intelligent question.

  David talked on, until he finished with the battle at Fort Tibbee.

  He told the Viceroy that only two British soldiers had been slightly wounded whilst the enemy dead must, he thought, be little short of a thousand.

  “I can only add my gratitude, Captain, to those who have already thanked you. I find it amazing that you were clever enough to understand that Tibbee was in danger and managed to reach there in time to prevent what could quite easily have been a massacre.”

  “It was a long walk, Your Excellency, which I do not wish to make again, but I think it is important that the Forts on the North-West Frontier should be strengthened and their garrison augmented.”

  “I agree with you and it is a priority I will discuss with those in command immediately.”

  David thought that his audience was at an end and he was expecting to rise to his feet when the Viceroy said,

  “And now Captain, I have news for you which I am afraid you will find rather upsetting.”

  David looked at him in surprise.

  “News, Your Excellency?”

  “A cable has come through from England. As you were away it was brought to me, but it was impossible for anyone to be in touch with you, as we had no idea where you were. You are therefore receiving it now, nearly three weeks after it was originally despatched.”

  David was wondering what the cable could possibly contain.

  The Viceroy handed it to him and he saw that it was addressed to him at Regimental Headquarters.

  He was surprised that they should have bothered the Viceroy with his cable.

  Then he read,

  “Deepest regrets to have to inform you that your grandfather, the Marquis of Inglestone and his heir, the Viscount Stone, were killed yesterday when the carriage carrying them over the bridge in the Park lost a wheel.

  Their Lordships were thrown into the stream, which was in spate and, as they fell, their heads crashed into the bridge’s brick piers and they were knocked unconscious.

  It was impossible to save either of them before they were drowned.

  The funeral will take place on Saturday and, as you are next of kin to your grandfather, you inherit his title and Ingle Hall and we await your Lordship’s instructions.

  Yours faithfully

  Turnbull, Downside and Mellow.”

  David read it through with astonishment, realising from the signature at the end that the cable was from his grandfather’s Solicitors.

  Then the Viceroy added sympathetically,

  “I am sorry, Ingle, that this should have happened to spoil what should be your most glorious hour, although, of course, it has to be kept secret.”

  “Whatever can I do now?” asked David, speaking almost more to himself than to the Viceroy.

>   “I am afraid that you will have to go home. We will miss you, but in the circumstances it must be a wise course to take. If the Russians by some means get to know that you are responsible for their disaster at Fort Tibbee, you would be safer, to say the least of it, well out of India.”

  “But I have no wish to go, Your Excellency, I want to stay with the Regiment – ”

  “And, of course,” added the Viceroy, “in The Great Game. But as I have already said, I think at the moment it would be extremely dangerous for you.”

  David recognised that he was talking sensibly, but at the same time he was finding it hard to believe that his life in India had unexpectedly come to such an abrupt end.

  As if he could divine David’s thoughts, the Viceroy advised,

  “Captain, you are now, I understand, the Marquis of Inglestone. It will undoubtedly mean many problems for you to solve and a great many people who will look to you for help and succour.”

  He smiled before he continued,

  “You will find much of what you have learnt in The Great Game will give you valuable assistance in your new life, if nothing else.”

  David drew in a deep breath.

  He had never in his wildest dreams believed that he could ever inherit his grandfather’s title and be the owner of Ingle Hall, the ancient family home.

  When his father, Lord Richard Ingle, left England, the Marquis was an exceedingly active man and at sixty-seven he was strong for his age.

  His elder son by his first marriage, Viscount Stone, was in contrast somewhat of a weakling and although he was then over thirty, he had never married.

  David had had his difficulties, but he had failed to elicit any help from his grandfather at a time of great need.

  “I do appreciate,” the Viceroy was saying, “that this has given you a great shock. And, of course, I need not say how India will miss you and so will I personally. But I am afraid, Captain, you must leave for home immediately.”

  “Immediately?” David echoed in surprise.

  “Because I think it is for your own safety as well as what will be expected of you by your family at home. I have actually booked a cabin for you on the P & O Steamer leaving here tonight.”

  David stared at the Viceroy.

  “Tonight – ” he muttered.