But if he had to keep his cloak tight closed now, it was indeed eyomSintsi, and with the flowering of the coral tree would come warmer weather. It would soon be the time to begin the mission to Shaka Zulu, before the summer's parching heat made the cattle thin and thirsty, and Xhosa and Zulu, and all the others of Kaffraria and Natal, in no humour to parley.
'Hervey! Capital, capital!' Sir Eyre Somervile, lieutenant-governor of the Cape Colony, rose from his desk to meet his old friend with outstretched hand.
Hervey took it, smiling. It was, indeed, good to see him, truly one of his most constant friends, his company ever enlivening. And he looked so much better than when he had seen him last. The spreading girth, the result, no doubt, of the ample table of the Court of Directors of the East India Company, and the scarce provision of exercise in the City, was very much reduced, and the claretcomplexion was no longer so pronounced. In fact, he looked quite his old self of ten and more years ago, when first they had met in Madras. 'It has evidently been a lean winter!'
Somervile patted his stomach, convinced it was no longer any handicap to exertion. 'Indeed, indeed. After the contest with those infernal Xhosa reivers I deemed it expedient to reduce my store. I trust I am campaigning fit!'
Hervey nodded. 'You have every appearance of it, I assure you.'
Somervile glanced over Hervey's shoulder, and seeing Fairbrother waiting, threw up his hands and made noisily for the door. 'My dear sir! Forgive me: come in; come in!'
They shook hands. And Hervey noticed how much less guarded was Fairbrother now. His manner was ever unhurried, in contrast to Somervile's, but before the two friends had gone to England, Fairbrother had always seemed watchful, almost resentful (if there could be resentment in languor). Perhaps his friend might at last recognize that the lieutenant-governor held him in nothing but the best of opinion.
'Good morning, Sir Eyre,' he replied, taking his hand freely.
'Now, are you just landed? I had not yet had word of a ship. And the fortunate Mrs Matthew Hervey, and Miss Georgiana Hervey: are they gone directly to the residence?'
Hervey tried not to look too uncomfortable. 'We came by the Enterprise, yes. Kezia and Georgiana remain in London, however.
In the circumstances I thought it best. Fairbrother and I came at once when we were landed to let you know of our return, though I have a sad and urgent duty to perform elsewhere.'
'Oh? Sit you both down. Some coffee?'
'Thank you, yes.'
Somervile nodded to his clerk.
'Armstrong,' said Hervey, his voice lowered. 'Caithlin Armstrong died two months ago.'
The joy at once left Somervile's face. 'Oh, great gods!' he groaned. 'He was of most excellent bearing at the frontier, as I told you in my letter. I owe my life to him. It is as simple as that.'
Hervey shook his head slowly. 'These things . . .'
Somervile shook his head too. 'You know that if there is anything at all that I or Emma may do . . .'
Hervey nodded. 'Thank you.'
'The children – how many? – they are taken care of, I imagine?'
'They are. The quartermaster's wife, Mrs Lincoln – you remember?'
'How could I forget? Such a wedding.'
'There are five.'
'And what will Armstrong do, therefore?'
'Return at once to England. There's an Indiaman which leaves tomorrow. I have brought Sarn't-Major Collins with me to do duty instead.'
Somervile nodded. 'A capital fellow, too, as I recall.'
'I was half minded to have one of the serjeants stand the duty, but if we are to take to the field I want a head such as Collins's with me.'
Somervile placed his hands together, as if to beg indulgence. 'It is not my business, but I might add that Serjeant Wainwright's conduct was as noble as the serjeant-major's.'
'So I read in your letter, and so I would have expected. Were he not so junior a serjeant, and were the troop to remain in its lines until we sail for home, I would give him the fourth stripes for the duration.'
A bearer brought coffee.
'Something fortifying to accompany it?' asked Somervile, glancing at one and then the other.
Hervey certainly felt the need of fortification, but he had resolved to face Armstrong with a clear mind and clear breath. He shook his head.
Fairbrother nodded to the offer of Cape brandy.
Hervey composed himself. 'What must I needs know this minute about your intentions for the frontier?' he asked, taking a good sip of his coffee before resting the cup and saucer in his lap. 'I would give preparatory orders to Brereton and Collins. It will be best that the troop is active as may be when Armstrong takes his leave of them.'
Somervile sighed heavily. 'Ye-es; Brereton.'
Hervey's brow furrowed.
'Forgive my civilian interference, Hervey, but it is my opinion that the peril which beset us at the frontier was the direct consequence of Brereton's incapability. And, I might add, his conduct in the face of the Xhosa stands poorly in comparison with Armstrong's and Wainwright's.'
If Hervey had had the least indignation at 'civilian interference' it was wholly dispelled by the knowledge of Somervile's own zeal in the field. His friend wore the same ribbon at his neck as he, and for deeds with sword and pistol, if twenty years ago. If his deeds frequently showed more impetuosity than true capability, it scarcely mattered here.
He glanced at Fairbrother, a touch uneasily, for this was regimental business of the most intimate kind. 'Are you saying that he wants courage?'
Somervile hesitated before replying. 'No, I am not. I saw nothing that could be construed only as want of courage.'
'It is true that he wants for experience. He himself was eager to come to the Cape to remedy that.'
'I believe I made due allowance on account of that. It is merely that . . . judgement is not exclusively a matter of experience. I fear that his instinct is faulty.'
Hervey raised his eyebrows, and sighed in his turn before draining his coffee cup. 'I shall observe him carefully. And speak to him. And to Armstrong.'
Somervile finished his brandy and held up his hands. 'It is, as I believe I have made clear, entirely your business, Hervey. I make no formal complaint.'