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Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 146 из 242Captain Hogan’s all right, but the rest? I can’t stand the rest.”
„Jack puddings,” Harper said flatly, meaning officers.
„I’m better on my own,” Sharpe said, „and out here I’m on my own. So we’re staying.”
„Aye,” Harper said, „and I think you’re right.”
„You do?” Sharpe sounded surprised.
„I do,” Harper said, „mind you, my mother never reckoned I was any good at thinking.”
Sharpe laughed. „Go and clean your rifle, Pat.”
Cooper had boiled a can of water and some of the riflemen used it to swill out their weapons’ barrels. Every shot left a little layer of caked powder that would eventually build up and make the rifle unusable, but hot water dissolved the residue. Some riflemen preferred to piss down the barrel. Hagman used the boiling water, then scraped at his barrel with his ramrod. „You want me to clean yours, sir?” he asked Sharpe.
„It’ll wait, Dan,” Sharpe said, then saw Sergeant Macedo and his men come back and he wondered where his own gravediggers were and so he went to the northernmost redoubt from where he could see Harris and Dodd stamping the earth down over Donnelly’s body while Williamson leaned on the spade. „Aren’t you finished?” Sharpe shouted at them. „Hurry!”
„Coming, sir!” Harris called, and he and Dodd picked up their jackets and started up the hill. Williamson hefted the spade, looked as if he was about to follow and then, quite suddenly, turned and ran down the hill.
„Jesus!” Harper appeared beside Sharpe and raised his rifle.
Sharpe pushed it down. He was not trying to save Williamson’s life, but there was a truce on the hill and even a single rifle shot could be construed as breaking the truce and the howitzer could answer the shot while Dodd and Harris were still on the open slope.
„The bastard!” Hagman watched Williamson run recklessly down the hill as though he was trying to outrun the expected bullet. Sharpe felt a terrible sense of failure. He had not liked Williamson, but even so it was the officer who had failed when a man ran. The officer would not get punished, of course, and the man, if he were ever caught, would be shot, but Sharpe knew that this was his failure. It was a reproof to his command.
Harper saw the stricken look on Sharpe’s face and did not understand it. „We’re best off without the bastard, sir,” he said.
Dodd and Harris looked dumbfounded and Harris even turned as if he wanted to chase Williamson until Sharpe called him back.
„Jack puddings,” Harper said flatly, meaning officers.
„I’m better on my own,” Sharpe said, „and out here I’m on my own. So we’re staying.”
„Aye,” Harper said, „and I think you’re right.”
„You do?” Sharpe sounded surprised.
„I do,” Harper said, „mind you, my mother never reckoned I was any good at thinking.”
Sharpe laughed. „Go and clean your rifle, Pat.”
Cooper had boiled a can of water and some of the riflemen used it to swill out their weapons’ barrels. Every shot left a little layer of caked powder that would eventually build up and make the rifle unusable, but hot water dissolved the residue. Some riflemen preferred to piss down the barrel. Hagman used the boiling water, then scraped at his barrel with his ramrod. „You want me to clean yours, sir?” he asked Sharpe.
„It’ll wait, Dan,” Sharpe said, then saw Sergeant Macedo and his men come back and he wondered where his own gravediggers were and so he went to the northernmost redoubt from where he could see Harris and Dodd stamping the earth down over Donnelly’s body while Williamson leaned on the spade. „Aren’t you finished?” Sharpe shouted at them. „Hurry!”
„Coming, sir!” Harris called, and he and Dodd picked up their jackets and started up the hill. Williamson hefted the spade, looked as if he was about to follow and then, quite suddenly, turned and ran down the hill.
„Jesus!” Harper appeared beside Sharpe and raised his rifle.
Sharpe pushed it down. He was not trying to save Williamson’s life, but there was a truce on the hill and even a single rifle shot could be construed as breaking the truce and the howitzer could answer the shot while Dodd and Harris were still on the open slope.
„The bastard!” Hagman watched Williamson run recklessly down the hill as though he was trying to outrun the expected bullet. Sharpe felt a terrible sense of failure. He had not liked Williamson, but even so it was the officer who had failed when a man ran. The officer would not get punished, of course, and the man, if he were ever caught, would be shot, but Sharpe knew that this was his failure. It was a reproof to his command.
Harper saw the stricken look on Sharpe’s face and did not understand it. „We’re best off without the bastard, sir,” he said.
Dodd and Harris looked dumbfounded and Harris even turned as if he wanted to chase Williamson until Sharpe called him back.