"For the love of God!" he groaned, raising both fists to heaven, "has
she got this far, and then been killed! Oh, what in Hades did I entrust
her to an Indian for? The pig-headed, brave old fool! Why couldn't
he ride round them, instead of charging through?"
As he groaned aloud, too wretched even to think of what his duty
was, a galloper rode up to him.
"Bring up your guns, sir, please!" he ordered. "You're asked to
hurry! Take up position on that rising ground and warm up the enemy's
retreat!"
"Limber up!" shouted Bellairs, coming to himself again. Fifteen seconds
later his two guns were thundering up the rise.
As he brought them to "action front" and tried to collect his thoughts
to figure out the range, a finger touched his shoulder and he turned
to see another artillery officer standing by him.
"I've been lent from another section," he explained: "You're wanted."
"Where?"
"Over there, where you see Colonel Carter standing. It's your wife
wants you, I think!"
Bellairs did not wait for explanations. He sent for his horse and
mounted and rode across the intervening space at a breakneck gallop
that he could barely stop in time to save himself from knocking the
colonel over.
Pages:
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276