True, before this had happened, his promotion to the rank of Major-General had been wired out from home, but he was given plainly to understand that no further advancement would be his; and thenceforth, by most, his military career was regarded as finished. So undoubtedly it would have been, had not hostilities broken out five years later in Georgistan, and, after a succession of reverses, the papers began to clamour for the despatch to the scene of General Graeme. For some time the demand was ignored, but, the reverses continuing, he was eventually sent out, and entrusted with the command of the Lines of Communication, in which capacity it was thought he would have no chance of making himself conspicuous. Fortune, however, favoured Hector, in the shape of a fierce attack on a post in which he happened to be resting for the night, and not only did he repel that assault, but, following up the retiring enemy, completely routed them, although they were double his strength in numbers. Probably owing to the fact that this was the first British success since the war’s commencement, Hector’s name, as a saviour, was blazoned forth on the placards of every evening paper, and so great became the clamour for his advancement that reluctantly the authorities placed him in command of the cavalry division. This division—a failure hitherto—straightway began to harry and destroy, their movements being conducted with such energy and ferocity that in a short time the mere sight of a horseman would send the Georgistan warriors scuttling hurriedly away to their hills.
For these services he was made Knight Commander of the Bath, and, on the termination of the war, was given the command of one of the great Indian Presidencies. Here, however, disaster overtook him; for shortly after his appointment a certain member of the British Parliament made his appearance, and proceeded to preach sedition to the natives living in Hector’s district. Graeme had been given the strictest orders to refrain from interfering with this person, and for some weeks he ignored his presence, though the effect of Mr. Belch’s words on the ill-balanced native mind was daily becoming more apparent.
Unfortunately for both, however, Hector one day happened to be walking through the bazaar, accompanied by his A.D.C. and orderly, and, coming upon the orator haranguing the mob, stopped to listen. For some time he stood there, till at length the man perceived him, and, goaded to fury at the sight of his country’s uniform, commenced a tirade not only against the army but against His Majesty the King. Now, devoid of most human feelings as Hector was, being filled with an unreasoning hatred and contempt for his fellows, there was yet one contradictory trait in his character, and that was a great veneration for his Sovereign. Hearing the King’s name bawled forth in a native bazaar, he was seized with sudden rage, and moved forward. Calling on his A.D.C. and orderly to follow him, he charged through the mob, and seizing the now terrified Belch, bore him to a shop hard by, where, with the aid of the other two, he proceeded to tar and feather him. Not till the work was thoroughly completed did he release the fellow, after which, thanks to a liberal use of their fists, the three made their way through the crowd, and though somewhat battered, reached home in safety.