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‘Yes,’ Shore replied with a guilty glance at Arthur. ‘It makes sense.’

‘So,’ the general opened one of his hands towards Arthur, ‘I’d like you to assume the role of my second in command. As I said, you’re a fine officer and what’s more you know the men and you know the plan better than anyone else in Calcutta. Do please do me the honour of serving with me on this expedition.’

For a moment Arthur was tempted by some churlish spirit to turn the offer down. If they were so keen to take the expedition away from him, then let them suffer the consequences of a last-minute change of command. But it would not be these officials who suffered if things went badly. It would be the ordinary men once again. Arthur knew that he must accept this latest humiliation. He owed the men of the 33rd that much at least for all the loyal service they had shown him.

‘I’d be pleased to accept, sir.’ He forced himself to smile.

General St Leger slapped his hand down on his thigh. ‘Good man! I knew you’d see the sense of it.There’ll be another chance for you, Wesley. Take my word for it, this war against France has the makings of another Iliad.’

‘I hope that Manila falls more quickly than Troy did, sir.’

‘What? Oh yes, of course.’ St Leger frowned as his conceit was pricked. ‘Now then, you can brief me fully on the plan and then we will set sail at once.’ He turned to Sir John. ‘Of course, that’s once you give the order, sir.’

‘Go,’ Sir John replied eagerly. ‘Go at once, by all means. God speed to you both, and come back with Manila in your pocket!’

Chapter 26

As the ships raised their anchors and were carried slowly downriver with the Hoogley’s current the sailors went aloft and lowered the sails to catch the light breeze blowing across the river. There was just enough wind to provide steerage way and the Indiamen glided gracefully past the battlements of Fort William and the seething slums and warehouses of Calcutta. Fortunately the breeze was from the other shore and so those on board were spared the stench that had greeted them when they had arrived in Calcutta at the start of the year.

Arthur was standing at the stern of his transport, arms folded as he stared at the fort, still furious with Sir John for taking away his command. After all the hard work he had done to make sure that the expedition stood every chance of success, another man had stepped in to reap all the credit. It stuck in his throat like a stone, yet he knew he must not reveal his frustration and anger, and must do his utmost to help General St Leger win his victory.

Footsteps approached from behind and a moment later Captain Fitzroy was beside him, leaning on the stern rail.

‘Action at last, sir. I can hardly wait to reach Manila.’

‘We should be there soon enough, Fitzroy,’ Arthur replied quietly. ‘Provided the weather holds. It’s late in the season. We don’t want to be caught out when the monsoons start.’

For a while they watched the city give way to irrigated field systems, dotted with occasional water buffaloes and small clusters of huts. Then Fitzroy stirred. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to take Manila?’

‘Of course,’ Arthur replied automatically. ‘You heard what the general said. The last report from our agent in Manila was that the garrison consisted of two battalions of veterans and the cannon in the forts are old and decrepit.They’ll be no match for us.’

‘If the agent is right.’

‘He’d better be. We paid him enough.’ Arthur smiled. ‘Rest easy. We’ll be back at Fort William before the year is out, and we’ll have given the men a victory to celebrate.’

‘Aye, and we’ll be the heroes of the Manila campaign when word gets back to London.’ Fitzroy smiled at the thought of the social capital he would be able to make out of his part in the expedition.

‘Calling it a campaign is stretching the truth a bit,’ Arthur countered.

‘You know that, and I know that, but none of the debutantes in Dublin and London will be any the wiser.’

Arthur shook his head pityingly.‘You are a scoundrel, Captain Fitzroy.’

‘Did you ever see a lady’s man who wasn’t, sir?’

For a moment Arthur pictured Kitty gazing adoringly up at a beau such as Fitzroy as he related to her how he had scaled the walls of Manila’s defences, flag in one hand and sword in the other, laying into the Spaniards with heroic abandon until he had taken the city virtually single-handed. How could a woman resist such a hero? The thought made him angry and he was suddenly tired of Fitzroy and his self-centredness.

‘Captain, the first company is scheduled to exercise this morning. Please see to it.’

Fitzroy was surprised by the sudden cooling in tone, then stood stiffly to attention and saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Carry on then.’

Once Fitzroy had left him alone, Arthur turned back to watch the landscape passing slowly by as the flotilla edged down the Hoogley, until at noon the river merged with the great expanse of the Ganges river which carried the transports out into the Bay of Bengal and the ocean beyond.

Arthur had made it clear to his officers that they were responsible for the well-being of their men. During the voyage hammocks were scrubbed down every ten days, fitness training was taken daily and a number of dumb-bells had been allocated to each vessel to ensure that the men were able to do strengthening exercises. Twice a week, the men were given live firing practice at empty barrels deposited in the sea from one of the ship’s boats, while the sailors looked on from vantage points in the rigging and jeered poor shots, and grudgingly cheered each time the target was hit.

The flotilla from Calcutta was the first to arrive at Penang and anchored a safe distance offshore to wait for the transports from Madras. Arthur took the opportunity to hone the skills of his men with plenty of drilling on the sand. General St Leger remained on his vessel for most of the time, only making for the shore once in a while, to take a stroll in the dense forest that grew on the slopes of the hills a short distance inland. He usually took a pistol with him to obliterate any parrot or small mammal that strayed across his path.

Eleven days after the flotilla had arrived off Penang a lookout sighted sails approaching from the south-west. As word of the sighting spread from ship to ship the men on the decks scanned the horizon, shading their eyes against the glare coming off the surface of the sea.There was a tense atmosphere as the ships crept into view.The crews and soldiers aboard the transports had good reason to be nervous. Although the French navy had ceased to be much of a threat in the East Indies there were still plenty of privateers in these waters, a handful of which preferred to operate in small squadrons that would be more than a match for the Company vessels.Then the lookout aloft positively identified them as Indiamen and the tension was relieved, some of the men even cheering as the Madras squadron approached the flotilla and reduced sail. Even before the leading ship had dropped anchor a boat was launched and rowed hurriedly across to the transport carrying the general and his staff.

‘Now, what do you suppose that is all about?’ Fitzroy asked languidly.

Arthur shrugged. ‘We’ll know soon enough, I imagine. Someone’s in a pressing hurry to tell St Leger some news.’

‘I wonder what kind of news, sir?’ Fitzroy asked with a tinge of alarm. ‘Nothing that will stop us taking Manila, I trust. I sincerely hope the bloody Spanish haven’t gone and changed sides again.’

‘I wouldn’t be too concerned,’ Arthur responded easily.‘There are more than enough enemies of England in this part of the world. You’ll still get your chance to fight, and win that glory you’ve set your heart on. Trust me.’