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Sharpes Eagle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 99 из 203“You hit her?” He had seen a bruise onher cheek.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Gibbons sounded bored.
“What wouldn’t I understand?” Sharpe stepped closer to the Lieutenant.
Gibbons negligently brushed a blade of grass from his sleeve. “How gentlemen behave, Sharpe. You’ll believe her, because she’s a whore, and you’re used to whores. You’re not used to gentlemen.”
“Call me ”sir“.”
Anger flared in Gibbons’ face. “Go to hell.”
Sharpe hit him in the solar plexus, and as Gibbons’ face came forward Sharpe lowered his own and butted him between the eyes. Gibbons reeled, blood dripping from his nose, and Sharpe dropped the rifle to hit him again. Once, twice, and a final massive punch into the stomach. Like Berry, Gibbons folded up and vomited. He dropped to his knees, clutching his belly, and Sharpe contemptuously pushed him with his boot and the Lieutenant keeled over into the mud.
“Lieutenant Berry?”
“Sir?”
“Mr Gibbons is a little the worse for drink. Get him out of here and clean him up.”
“Yes, sir.” Berry was not going to argue with Sharpe. He helped Gibbons uncertainly to his feet. The Colonel’s nephew was gasping for breath, heaving from his stomach, and he pushed Berry away and turned to stammer at Forrest, between gasps. “You saw him. He hit me!”
Hogan stepped forward, his voice crisp and authoritative. “Nonsense, Lieutenant. You were drunk and fell over. Go home to bed.”
The two Lieutenants stumbled into the darkness. Sharpe watched them go. “Bastards! You can’t play cards over a woman.”
Hogan smiled sadly. “You know why they made you into an officer, Richard?”
“Why?”
“You’re far too much of a gentleman to have stayed in the ranks. Men have been playing cards over women since cards were invented, or women for that matter.” He turned to the girl. “And what are you going to do now?”
“Do?” She looked at Hogan and then at Sharpe. “I cannot go back. They tried to rape me!”
“Did they now.” Hogan’s voice was flat. The girl nodded, still clutching the bag, and moved closer to Sharpe.
“My clothes,” she said. “I must get my clothes. All my things! They are in that room.”
Forrest stepped forward, a concerned expression on his face. “Your clothes?”
“All my things! They’ll kill me!”
Hogan’s shrewd eyes flicked from the girl to Forrest. “If you go round the front, Major, and hurry, then you’ll be there before those two.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Gibbons sounded bored.
“What wouldn’t I understand?” Sharpe stepped closer to the Lieutenant.
Gibbons negligently brushed a blade of grass from his sleeve. “How gentlemen behave, Sharpe. You’ll believe her, because she’s a whore, and you’re used to whores. You’re not used to gentlemen.”
“Call me ”sir“.”
Anger flared in Gibbons’ face. “Go to hell.”
Sharpe hit him in the solar plexus, and as Gibbons’ face came forward Sharpe lowered his own and butted him between the eyes. Gibbons reeled, blood dripping from his nose, and Sharpe dropped the rifle to hit him again. Once, twice, and a final massive punch into the stomach. Like Berry, Gibbons folded up and vomited. He dropped to his knees, clutching his belly, and Sharpe contemptuously pushed him with his boot and the Lieutenant keeled over into the mud.
“Lieutenant Berry?”
“Sir?”
“Mr Gibbons is a little the worse for drink. Get him out of here and clean him up.”
“Yes, sir.” Berry was not going to argue with Sharpe. He helped Gibbons uncertainly to his feet. The Colonel’s nephew was gasping for breath, heaving from his stomach, and he pushed Berry away and turned to stammer at Forrest, between gasps. “You saw him. He hit me!”
Hogan stepped forward, his voice crisp and authoritative. “Nonsense, Lieutenant. You were drunk and fell over. Go home to bed.”
The two Lieutenants stumbled into the darkness. Sharpe watched them go. “Bastards! You can’t play cards over a woman.”
Hogan smiled sadly. “You know why they made you into an officer, Richard?”
“Why?”
“You’re far too much of a gentleman to have stayed in the ranks. Men have been playing cards over women since cards were invented, or women for that matter.” He turned to the girl. “And what are you going to do now?”
“Do?” She looked at Hogan and then at Sharpe. “I cannot go back. They tried to rape me!”
“Did they now.” Hogan’s voice was flat. The girl nodded, still clutching the bag, and moved closer to Sharpe.
“My clothes,” she said. “I must get my clothes. All my things! They are in that room.”
Forrest stepped forward, a concerned expression on his face. “Your clothes?”
“All my things! They’ll kill me!”
Hogan’s shrewd eyes flicked from the girl to Forrest. “If you go round the front, Major, and hurry, then you’ll be there before those two.