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Updated: June 17, 2025
But Lord Cardigan had strangely obstinately, indeed misunderstood his orders, and, although chafing angrily at inaction, conceived that it was his bounden but distasteful duty to halt where he was. "Why don't he let us loose at them? Was there ever such a chance?" muttered Hugo Wilders, audibly, and within earshot of his chief.
More cavalry went forward on our side, and two whole infantry divisions, in one of which was the Royal Picts, followed in support. Surely a battle was close at hand. But nothing came of this demonstration. Why, was not quite clear, till Hugo Wilders, who was a captain in the Royal Lancers, came galloping by, and exchanged a few hasty words with the general, his cousin Bill. "What's up, Hugo?"
They missed his encouraging voice; his noble figure was no more visible, while his fine old white charger, riderless, his flanks streaming with gore, was galloping madly down the hill. Many more officers were laid low by this murderous discharge; amongst others, Anastasius Wilders had fallen, severely wounded, and his blood had spurted out in a great pool upon the colour he carried.
"I should be sorry to leave the general while I can be of any use. He has been a kind friend to me." "And you are a relation. Of course it is very natural you should wish to be at his side. I am sure I shall be delighted to have your assistance in nursing him," said Mrs. Wilders, very graciously; and soon afterwards McKay took his leave.
"The more terrible a war is, the sooner it is ended." "We are getting very ghastly in our talk," said Mrs. Wilders. "Suppose we go into the drawing-room and have some tea." As they passed out of the dining-room, Mr. Hobson managed to whisper a few words. "I have squeezed him dry: that was all I wanted to know. I need not stay any longer, I think." "Who knows?
You had better go, McKay." The aide-de-camp made rather a wry face. He was not fond of Mrs. Wilders, whose manner, sometimes oily, sometimes supercilious, was too changeable to please him, and he felt that the woman was not true. However, he went down to the cabin, where he found Mrs. Wilders, with a white, scared face, cowering in a corner as she listened to the howling of the storm.
"Other important transactions in the shipping interest will shortly be undertaken; more precise details will speedily follow." Then he directed the cabman to drive to Thistle Grove, Brompton. "Is Mrs. Wilders visible yet?" he asked the servant, on reaching her house.
"Why can't you and Lydstone keep better friends?" said General Wilders, a little shocked at this remark. "It's his fault, not mine, and that's enough about it," replied Mrs. Wilders, rather petulantly. "Did you ever quarrel with your brother," she went on to Anastasius, "when you were boys?" "I would not have dared. Not that I wanted to: we three brothers were always the best of friends."
In the gateway she ran up against Serjeant McKay, who had been hovering about the stables from the moment he saw Mrs. Wilders enter the courtyard. He had seen nothing of what passed inside, and as the interview with Benito occupied some time he had grown uneasy. Fearing something had happened to the general's wife, he was on the point of going in to look after her when he met her coming out.
"What is to be done with him now?" asked the general. "We must get him on board ship to-night, if possible; but how?" "We will carry him every inch of the way," said one of the bandsmen of the Royal Picts. Young Wilders was idolised by the men. "It is three miles to the sea-shore: a long journey." "They can march in two reliefs, four carrying, four resting," said McKay.
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