Sharpes Havoc   ::   Корнуэлл Бернард

„A village not far from the Amarante road,” Christopher said, „and I wish I could give you something more, but I offer what I can as an earnest of my sincerity. The troops there will give you no trouble. They’re led by a British lieutenant and he didn’t strike me as particularly resourceful. The man must be thirty if he’s a day and he’s still a lieutenant so he can’t be up to much.”

Another crackle of thunder made Vuillard look anxiously to the northern sky. „We must get back to quarters before the rain comes,” he said, but then paused. „It doesn’t worry you that you betray your country?”

„I betray nothing,” Christopher said, and then, for a change, he spoke truthfully. „If France’s conquests, General, are ruled only by Frenchmen then Europe will regard you as nothing but adventurers and exploiters, but if you share your power, if every nation in Europe contributes to the government of every other nation, then we will have moved into the promised world of reason and peace. Isn’t that what your Emperor wants? A European system, those were his words, a European system, a European code of laws, a European judiciary and one nation alone in Europe, Europeans. How can I betray my own continent?”

Vuillard grimaced. „Our Emperor talks a lot, Englishman. He’s a Corsican and he has wild dreams. Is that what you are? A dreamer?”

„I am a realist,” Christopher said. He had used his knowledge of the mutiny to ingratiate himself with the French, and now he would secure their trust by offering a handful of British soldiers as a sacrifice.

So Sharpe and his men must die, so that Europe’s glorious future could arrive.



CHAPTER 5

The loss of the telescope hurt Sharpe. He told himself it was a bauble, a useful frill, but it still hurt. It marked an achievement, not just the rescue of Sir Arthur Wellesley, but the promotion to commissioned rank afterward. Sometimes, when he scarcely dared believe that he was a King’s officer, he would look at the telescope and think how far he had traveled from the orphanage in Brewhouse Lane and at other times, though he was reluctant to admit it to himself, he enjoyed refusing to explain the plaque on the telescope’s barrel. Yet he knew other men knew. They looked at him, understood he had once fought like a demon under the Indian sun and were awed.

Now bloody Christopher had the glass.

„You’ll get it back, sir,” Harper tried to console him.

„I bloody will, too. I hear that Williamson got into a fight in the village last night?”

„Not much of a fight, sir.