The Flashman Papers: The Complete 12-Book Collection. George Fraser MacDonald

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СКАЧАТЬ way, and that it didn’t matter anyway, because we had the measure of the Afghans and would probably sally out and break the siege whenever we felt like it. Havelock looked a bit sour at this; I gathered he didn’t hold a high opinion of Sale – nobody did, apart from admiring his bravery – and was none too sure of his capabilities when it came to raising sieges.

      “And this,” says Bob, beaming with enthusiasm, “this we owe to you. Aye, and to the gallant band who held that little fort against an army. My word, Havelock, did I not say to you at the time that there never was a grander thing? It may not pay for all, to be sure; the catastrophe of Afghanistan will call forth universal horror in England, but at least we have redeemed something. We hold Jallalabad, and we’ll drive this rabble of Akbar’s from our gates – aye, and be back in Kabul before the year is out. And when we do –” and he swung round on me again “– it will be because a handful of sepoys, led by an English gentleman, defied a great army alone, and to the bitter end.”

      He was so worked up by his own eloquence that he had to go into the corner and gulp for a little, while Havelock nodded solemnly, regarding me.

      “It had the flavour of heroism,” says he, “and heaven knows there has been little enough of that to date. They will make much of it at home.”

      Well, I’m not often at a nonplus (except when there is physical danger, of course), but this left me speechless. Heroism? Well, if they cared to think so, let ’em; I wouldn’t contradict them – and it struck me that if I did, if I were idiot enough to let them know the truth, as I am writing it now, they would simply have thought me crazy as a result of my wounds. God alone knew what I was supposed to have done that was so brave, but doubtless I should learn in time. All I could see was that somehow appearances were heavily on my side – and who needs more than that? Give me the shadow every time, and you can keep the substance – it’s a principle I’ve followed all my life, and it works if you know how to act on it.

      What was obvious was that nothing must now happen to spoil Sale’s lovely dream for him; it would have been cruel to the old fellow. So I addressed myself to the task at once.

      “We did our duty, sir,” says I, looking uncomfortable, and Havelock nodded again, while old Bob came back to the bed.

      “And I have done mine,” says he, fumbling in his pocket. “For I conceived it no less, in sending my latest despatch to Lord Ellenborough – who now commands in Delhi – to include an account of your action. I’ll read it,” says he, “because it speaks more clearly than I can at present, and will enable you to see how others judged your conduct.”

      He cleared his throat, and began.

      “Humph – let’s see – Afghans in strength – demands that I surrender – aye, aye – sharp engagement by Dennie – ah, here we have it. ‘I had despatched a strong guard under Captain Little to Piper’s Fort, commanding an eminence some way from the city, where I feared the enemy might establish gun positions. When the siege began, Piper’s Fort was totally cut off from us, and received the full force of the enemy’s assault. In what manner it resisted I cannot say in detail, for of its garrison only five now survive, four of them being sepoys, and the other an English officer who is yet unconscious with his wounds, but will, as I trust, soon recover. How he came in the fort I know not, for he was not of the original garrison, but on the staff of General Elphinstone. His name is Flashman, and it is probable that he and Dr Brydon are the only survivors of the army so cruelly destroyed at Jugdulluk and Gandamack. I can only assume that he escaped the final massacre, and so reached Piper’s Fort after the siege began.”

      He looked at me. “You shall correct me, my boy, if I go wrong, but it is right you should know what I have told his excellency.”

      “You’re very kind sir,” says I, humbly. Too kind by a damned sight, if you only knew.

      “‘The siege continued slowly on our own front, as I have already informed you,’” says Sale, reading on, “‘but the violence of the assaults on Piper’s Fort was unabated. Captain Little was slain, with his sergeant, but the garrison fought on with the utmost resolution. Lieutenant Flashman, as I learn from one of the sepoys, was in a case more suited to a hospital than to a battlefield, for he had evidently been prisoner of the Afghans, who had flogged him most shockingly, so that he was unable to stand, and must lie in the fort tower. His companion, Sergeant Hudson, assisted most gallantly in the defence, until Lieutenant Flashman, despite his wounds, returned to the action.

      “‘Charge after charge was resisted, and the enemy most bloodily repulsed. To us in Jallalabad, this unexpected check to the Sirdar’s advance was an advantage beyond price. It may well have been decisive.’”

      Well, Hudson, thinks I, that was what you wanted, and you got it, for all the good it did you. Meanwhile, Sale laid off for a minute, took a wipe at his eye, and started in again, trying not to quaver. I suspect he was enjoying his emotion.

      “‘But there was no way in which we could succour Piper’s Fort at this time, and, the enemy bringing forward cannon, the walls were breached in several places. I had now resolved on a sortie, to do what could be done for our comrades, and Colonel Dennie advanced to their relief. In a sharp engagement over the very ruins of the fort – for it had been pounded almost to pieces by the guns – the Afghans were entirely routed, and we were able to make good the position and withdraw the survivors of the garrison which had held it so faithfully and well.’”

      I thought the old fool was going to weep, but he took a great pull at himself and proceeded:

      “‘With what grief do I write that of these there remained only five? The gallant Hudson was slain, and at first it seemed that no European was left alive. Then Lieutenant Flashman was found, wounded and unconscious, by the ruins of the gate, where he had taken his final stand in defence not only of the fort, but of his country’s honour. For he was found, in the last extremity, with the colours clutched to his broken body, his face to the foemen, defiant even unto death.’”

      Hallelujah and good-night, sweet prince, says I to myself, what a shame I hadn’t a broken sword and a ring of my slain around me. But I thought too soon.

      “‘The bodies of his enemies lay before him,’” says old Bob, “‘At first it was thought he was dead, but to our great joy it was discovered that the flame of life still flickered. I cannot think that there was ever a nobler deed than this, and I only wish that our countrymen at home might have seen it, and learned with what selfless devotion their honour is protected even at the ends of the earth. It was heroic! and I trust that Lieutenant Flashman’s name will be remembered in every home in England. Whatever may be said of the disasters that have befallen us here, his valour is testimony that the spirit of our young manhood is no whit less ardent than that of their predecessors who, in Pitt’s words, saved Europe by their example.’”

      Well, thinks I, if that’s how we won the battle of Waterloo, thank God the French don’t know or we shall have them at us again. Who ever heard such humbug? But it was glorious to listen to, mind you, and I glowed at the thought of it. This was fame! I didn’t understand, then, how the news of Kabul and Gandamack would make England shudder, and how that vastly conceited and indignant public would clutch at any straw that might heal their national pride and enable them to repeat the old and nonsensical lie that one Englishman is worth twenty foreigners. But I could still guess what effect Sale’s report would have on a new Governor-General, and through him on the government and country, especially by contrast with the accounts of the inglorious shambles by Elphy and McNaghten that must now be on their way home.

      All I must do was be modest and manly and wait for the laurel wreaths.

      Sale had shoved his copy of the letter back СКАЧАТЬ