JК
Sharpes Devil :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 132 из 209So far, at least, the deception had worked and no Spanish guns were firing at the Espiritu Santo; all the dreadful gunnery was aimed at the O 'Higgins.
A strange voice called in a lull between the gunshots, and Sharpe, with an apprehensive leap of his heart, realized that the voice must have been calling from somewhere ashore. They were close, so close. A wisp of mist drifted across the wreckage which Cochrane had artfully strewn on the Espiritu Santos, main deck. The voice called again, and this time a man shouted in answer from the frigate's bow, explaining that the Espiritu Santo had been in a running fight with the devil Cochrane these last six days, and that the frigate was filled with wounded, but praise God and Saint James they had slaughtered and wounded scores of their enemies and might even have killed that devil Cochrane with their gunnery.
Another terrible crash of gunfire was followed by a horribly familiar rending sound as the great cannonballs ripped the sky apart. Sharpe, looking up through the Espiritu Santa's tattered rigging, saw the smoke trails.of heated shot. "God help the O'Higgins," he said softly.
"God help us all," Harper responded. A marine crossed himself. Miller was singing again, though under his breath for fear of offending Cochrane. The men at the pumps faltered for a second, then began their desperate pumping again. Footsteps paced, slow and comforting, on the quarterdeck above.
"Not long now, lads," Cochrane's voice called softly. "Think of the waiting whores. Think of the gold! Think of the plunder we'll take! Not long now!"
The man on the frigate's beakhead was calling more news ashore. Captain Ardiles was dead, he said, and the First Lieutenant dying. "We have women and children on board!" he called ashore.
"Twenty paces, no more!" Cochrane warned his attackers.
"I pray there's water under our keel!" Miller said in sudden fear. "God, give us water!" Sharpe had a sudden image of the frigate stranded fifteen paces from land and being pulverized by cannonfire.
"Fifteen paces! Stay hidden now!" Cochrane said.
A marine nervously scraped a sharpening stone down his fixed bayonet. Another felt the edge of his cutlass with his thumb. Sharpe had seen the man do the same thing at least a dozen times in the last minute. Miller took a hugely deep breath, then spat onto the snakeskin handle of his sword. A gust of wind reflected off the citadel's crag to flog the edge of a sail and spray dew thick as rain down onto the frigate's deck.
"Ensign!" Cochrane called sharply.
A strange voice called in a lull between the gunshots, and Sharpe, with an apprehensive leap of his heart, realized that the voice must have been calling from somewhere ashore. They were close, so close. A wisp of mist drifted across the wreckage which Cochrane had artfully strewn on the Espiritu Santos, main deck. The voice called again, and this time a man shouted in answer from the frigate's bow, explaining that the Espiritu Santo had been in a running fight with the devil Cochrane these last six days, and that the frigate was filled with wounded, but praise God and Saint James they had slaughtered and wounded scores of their enemies and might even have killed that devil Cochrane with their gunnery.
Another terrible crash of gunfire was followed by a horribly familiar rending sound as the great cannonballs ripped the sky apart. Sharpe, looking up through the Espiritu Santa's tattered rigging, saw the smoke trails.of heated shot. "God help the O'Higgins," he said softly.
"God help us all," Harper responded. A marine crossed himself. Miller was singing again, though under his breath for fear of offending Cochrane. The men at the pumps faltered for a second, then began their desperate pumping again. Footsteps paced, slow and comforting, on the quarterdeck above.
"Not long now, lads," Cochrane's voice called softly. "Think of the waiting whores. Think of the gold! Think of the plunder we'll take! Not long now!"
The man on the frigate's beakhead was calling more news ashore. Captain Ardiles was dead, he said, and the First Lieutenant dying. "We have women and children on board!" he called ashore.
"Twenty paces, no more!" Cochrane warned his attackers.
"I pray there's water under our keel!" Miller said in sudden fear. "God, give us water!" Sharpe had a sudden image of the frigate stranded fifteen paces from land and being pulverized by cannonfire.
"Fifteen paces! Stay hidden now!" Cochrane said.
A marine nervously scraped a sharpening stone down his fixed bayonet. Another felt the edge of his cutlass with his thumb. Sharpe had seen the man do the same thing at least a dozen times in the last minute. Miller took a hugely deep breath, then spat onto the snakeskin handle of his sword. A gust of wind reflected off the citadel's crag to flog the edge of a sail and spray dew thick as rain down onto the frigate's deck.
"Ensign!" Cochrane called sharply.