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Sharpes Eagle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 171 из 203The French guns had opened fire but this time with their barrels depressed, and the shells blew apart in the loose ranks of the British trudging up the hill. The men began to run, the French prisoners turned and sprinted for their own lines, but there was no cover from the shelling. Sharpe had watched one iron ball strike a rabbit hole and bounce into the air with smoke spiralling crazily from its fuse. The shell, small enough to pick up with one hand, landed by Gataker. The Rifleman had bent down to pinch out the fuse but he was too late; it exploded, spitting him with its fractured casing and belching smoke and flame as it hurled his corpse backwards. Sharpe had knelt beside him but Gataker was dead; the first of Sharpe’s Riflemen to die since the fighting in the northern mountains of the last winter.
When the guns stopped they were ordered back to bury the dead quickly, and the men scraped shallow holes in the soft earth beside the stream. The French came as well. For a few minutes the troops avoided each other but soon someone made a joke, held out a hand, and within minutes the enemies shook hands, tried on each other’s shakoes, shared the meagre scraps of food and treated each other like long-lost friends rather than sworn enemies. The valley was littered with the remains of battle: unexploded shells, weapons, looted packs, the usual garbage of defeat.
“Sharpe! Captain!” Sharpe turned to see Hogan picking his way through the dead and the wounded. “I’ve been looking for you!” The Engineer slid from his horse and looked around. “Are you all right?”
“I’m all right.” Sharpe accepted Hogan’s offered water-bottle. “How’s Josefina?”
Hogan smiled. “She slept.”
Sharpe looked at the dark rings under the Irishman’s eyes. “But you didn’t?”
Hogan shook his head and then indicated the bodies. “One sleepless night isn’t much to complain about.”
“And Josefina?”
“I think she’s all right. Really, Richard.” Hogan shook his head. “She’s subdued, unhappy. But what would you expect after last night?”
Last night, thought Sharpe. Good God, it was only last night. He turned away and looked at the bloodied water of the Portina stream and at the Frenchmen on the far bank who were excavating a wide shallow hole into which their stripped dead were being thrown. He turned back to Hogan. “What’s happening in town?”
“In the town? Oh, you’re worried about her safety?” Sharpe nodded. Hogan took out his snuff box. “Everything’s quiet. They rounded up most of the Spanish and they’re back in their lines. There’s a guard in the town to stop any more looting.
When the guns stopped they were ordered back to bury the dead quickly, and the men scraped shallow holes in the soft earth beside the stream. The French came as well. For a few minutes the troops avoided each other but soon someone made a joke, held out a hand, and within minutes the enemies shook hands, tried on each other’s shakoes, shared the meagre scraps of food and treated each other like long-lost friends rather than sworn enemies. The valley was littered with the remains of battle: unexploded shells, weapons, looted packs, the usual garbage of defeat.
“Sharpe! Captain!” Sharpe turned to see Hogan picking his way through the dead and the wounded. “I’ve been looking for you!” The Engineer slid from his horse and looked around. “Are you all right?”
“I’m all right.” Sharpe accepted Hogan’s offered water-bottle. “How’s Josefina?”
Hogan smiled. “She slept.”
Sharpe looked at the dark rings under the Irishman’s eyes. “But you didn’t?”
Hogan shook his head and then indicated the bodies. “One sleepless night isn’t much to complain about.”
“And Josefina?”
“I think she’s all right. Really, Richard.” Hogan shook his head. “She’s subdued, unhappy. But what would you expect after last night?”
Last night, thought Sharpe. Good God, it was only last night. He turned away and looked at the bloodied water of the Portina stream and at the Frenchmen on the far bank who were excavating a wide shallow hole into which their stripped dead were being thrown. He turned back to Hogan. “What’s happening in town?”
“In the town? Oh, you’re worried about her safety?” Sharpe nodded. Hogan took out his snuff box. “Everything’s quiet. They rounded up most of the Spanish and they’re back in their lines. There’s a guard in the town to stop any more looting.