JК
Sharpes Eagle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 126 из 203”
“I’ve heard of you, haven’t I? Sharpe. Let me think.” He peered down at the Rifleman then snapped his fingers. “Of course! I’m honoured to make your acquaintance, Sharpe! Did you know the Rifles are on their way back?”
Sharpe felt his heart leap in excitement. “Here, sir?”
“They might even be in Lisbon by now. Can’t manage without the Rifles, eh, Simmerson?” There was no reply. “Which Battalion are you, Sharpe?”
“Second, sir.”
“You’ll be disappointed, then. The first are coming. Still, it’ll be good to see old friends again, eh?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hill seemed genuinely happy to be chatting away. Over the General’s shoulder Sharpe caught a glimpse of Gibbons sitting disconsolate on his horse. The General slapped away a fly. “What do they say about the Rifles, eh. Captain?”
“First on the field and last off it, sir.”
Hill nodded. “That’s the spirit! So you’re attached to the South Essex, are you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re in my division, Sharpe, very glad. Carry on!”
“Thank you, sir.” He saluted, about turned, and marched back towards the Light Company. As he went he heard Hill call out to the cavalry’s commanding officer. “You can go home! No business today!”
The General walked his horse down the ranks of the Battalion and talked affably with the men. Sharpe had heard much about ‘Daddy’ Hill and understood now why he had been given the nickname. The General had the knack of making every man think that he was cared for, seemed genuinely concerned about them, wanted them to be happy. There was no way in which he could not have seen the state of the Battalion. Even allowing for three weeks’ marching and the fight at the bridge, the men looked hastily turned out and sloppily dressed, but Hill turned a blind eye. When he reached the Light Company he nodded familiarly to Sharpe, joked about Harper’s height, made the men laugh. He left the company grinning and rode with Simmerson and his entourage to the centre of the parade ground.
“You’ve been bad lads! I was disappointed in you this morning!” He spoke slowly and distinctly so that-the flank companies, like Sharpe’s, could hear him clearly. “You deserve the punishment that Sir Henry ordered!” He paused. “But really you’ve done very well this afternoon! Early on parade!” There was a rustle of laughter in the ranks. “You seem very keen to get your punishment!” The laughter died. “Well, you’re going to be disappointed.
“I’ve heard of you, haven’t I? Sharpe. Let me think.” He peered down at the Rifleman then snapped his fingers. “Of course! I’m honoured to make your acquaintance, Sharpe! Did you know the Rifles are on their way back?”
Sharpe felt his heart leap in excitement. “Here, sir?”
“They might even be in Lisbon by now. Can’t manage without the Rifles, eh, Simmerson?” There was no reply. “Which Battalion are you, Sharpe?”
“Second, sir.”
“You’ll be disappointed, then. The first are coming. Still, it’ll be good to see old friends again, eh?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hill seemed genuinely happy to be chatting away. Over the General’s shoulder Sharpe caught a glimpse of Gibbons sitting disconsolate on his horse. The General slapped away a fly. “What do they say about the Rifles, eh. Captain?”
“First on the field and last off it, sir.”
Hill nodded. “That’s the spirit! So you’re attached to the South Essex, are you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re in my division, Sharpe, very glad. Carry on!”
“Thank you, sir.” He saluted, about turned, and marched back towards the Light Company. As he went he heard Hill call out to the cavalry’s commanding officer. “You can go home! No business today!”
The General walked his horse down the ranks of the Battalion and talked affably with the men. Sharpe had heard much about ‘Daddy’ Hill and understood now why he had been given the nickname. The General had the knack of making every man think that he was cared for, seemed genuinely concerned about them, wanted them to be happy. There was no way in which he could not have seen the state of the Battalion. Even allowing for three weeks’ marching and the fight at the bridge, the men looked hastily turned out and sloppily dressed, but Hill turned a blind eye. When he reached the Light Company he nodded familiarly to Sharpe, joked about Harper’s height, made the men laugh. He left the company grinning and rode with Simmerson and his entourage to the centre of the parade ground.
“You’ve been bad lads! I was disappointed in you this morning!” He spoke slowly and distinctly so that-the flank companies, like Sharpe’s, could hear him clearly. “You deserve the punishment that Sir Henry ordered!” He paused. “But really you’ve done very well this afternoon! Early on parade!” There was a rustle of laughter in the ranks. “You seem very keen to get your punishment!” The laughter died. “Well, you’re going to be disappointed.