JК
Sharpes Devil :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 200 из 209We were going to live in Madrid and be great men." He was weeping again. "It was all going to be so wonderful!"
Sharpe gripped Marquinez's black hair and tipped the man's tearful face back. "Is Bias Vivar here?"
"No, senor, I swear it!"
"Did your lover ambush Vivar?"
"No, senor. ”
"So where is he?"
"We don't know! No one knows!"
Sharpe twisted his grip, tugging Marquinez's hair painfully. "But you were the one who took the dog to Puerto Crucero and buried it?"
"Yes, senor, yes!"
"Why?"
"Because he ordered me to. Because it was embarrassing that we could not find the Captain-General's body. Because Madrid was demanding to know what had happened to General Vivar! We didn't know, but we thought he must be dead, so I found a dead dog and put that in a box instead. At least the box would smell right!" Marquinez paused. "I don't know where he is! Please! We would have killed him, if we could, because General Vivar had found out about us, and he was threatening to tell the church of our sin, but then he vanished! Miguel said it had to be the rebels, but we never found out! It wasn't our doing! It wasn't!"
Sharpe released Marquinez's hair. "Bugger," he said. He released the flint on his pistol and pushed the weapon back into his belt. "Bugger!"
"But look,” seriorr Marquinez had climbed to his feet and, eager as a puppy for approval, edged into the tower room which had been his secret trysting place. "Look, senor, gold! And we have your sword, see?" He ran to a box, opened it, and drew out Sharpe's sword. Harper was opening other boxes and whistling with astonishment, though he was not so astonished to forget to fill his pockets with coins. "Here, senor." Marquinez held out Sharpe's sword.
Sharpe took it, unbuckled the borrowed scabbard, and strapped his own sword in its place. He drew the familiar blade. It looked very dull in the dim lantern light.
"No, senor!” Marquinez thought Sharpe was going to kill him.
"I'm not going to kill you, Marquinez. I might kill someone else, but not you. Tell me where Bautista's quarters are."
Sharpe left Harper in his Aladdin's cave, went through Marquinez's rooms, across a landing, down a long corridor, and into a stark, severe chamber. The walls were white, the furniture functional, the bed nothing but a campaign cot covered with thin blankets. This was how Bautista wanted the world to see him, while the tower had been his secret and his fantasy. Now Lord Cochrane sat at Bautista's plain table with two pieces of paper in front of him.
Sharpe gripped Marquinez's black hair and tipped the man's tearful face back. "Is Bias Vivar here?"
"No, senor, I swear it!"
"Did your lover ambush Vivar?"
"No, senor. ”
"So where is he?"
"We don't know! No one knows!"
Sharpe twisted his grip, tugging Marquinez's hair painfully. "But you were the one who took the dog to Puerto Crucero and buried it?"
"Yes, senor, yes!"
"Why?"
"Because he ordered me to. Because it was embarrassing that we could not find the Captain-General's body. Because Madrid was demanding to know what had happened to General Vivar! We didn't know, but we thought he must be dead, so I found a dead dog and put that in a box instead. At least the box would smell right!" Marquinez paused. "I don't know where he is! Please! We would have killed him, if we could, because General Vivar had found out about us, and he was threatening to tell the church of our sin, but then he vanished! Miguel said it had to be the rebels, but we never found out! It wasn't our doing! It wasn't!"
Sharpe released Marquinez's hair. "Bugger," he said. He released the flint on his pistol and pushed the weapon back into his belt. "Bugger!"
"But look,” seriorr Marquinez had climbed to his feet and, eager as a puppy for approval, edged into the tower room which had been his secret trysting place. "Look, senor, gold! And we have your sword, see?" He ran to a box, opened it, and drew out Sharpe's sword. Harper was opening other boxes and whistling with astonishment, though he was not so astonished to forget to fill his pockets with coins. "Here, senor." Marquinez held out Sharpe's sword.
Sharpe took it, unbuckled the borrowed scabbard, and strapped his own sword in its place. He drew the familiar blade. It looked very dull in the dim lantern light.
"No, senor!” Marquinez thought Sharpe was going to kill him.
"I'm not going to kill you, Marquinez. I might kill someone else, but not you. Tell me where Bautista's quarters are."
Sharpe left Harper in his Aladdin's cave, went through Marquinez's rooms, across a landing, down a long corridor, and into a stark, severe chamber. The walls were white, the furniture functional, the bed nothing but a campaign cot covered with thin blankets. This was how Bautista wanted the world to see him, while the tower had been his secret and his fantasy. Now Lord Cochrane sat at Bautista's plain table with two pieces of paper in front of him.