JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 186 из 242The column, much larger than the first, was surging forward, driven by the drumsticks. The Frenchmen cheered, perhaps to give themselves confidence, and they must have been encouraged by the fact that the British guns on the river’s far side could not see them. But then, provoking a British cheer, a spherical case shot fired by a howitzer exploded just ahead of the column’s center. The British gunners were firing blind, arching their shots over the seminary, but they were firing well and their first shot killed the French cheering dead.
„Rifles only!” Sharpe called. „Fire when you’re ready. Don’t waste the patch! Hagman? Go for that big man with the saber.”
„I see him, sir,” Hagman said and shifted his rifle to aim at the officer who was striding ahead, setting an example, asking to be rifle meat.
„Look for the ladders,” Sharpe reminded the others, then walked to the parapet, put his left foot on the coping and the rifle to his shoulder. He aimed at a man with a ladder, sighting on the man’s head in the expectation that the bullet would fall to take him in the lower belly or groin. The wind was in Sharpe’s face so would not drift the shot. He fired and was immediately blinded by the smoke. Hagman fired next, then there was the crackle of the other rifles. The muskets kept silent. Sharpe went to his left to see past the smoke and saw that the saber-carrying officer had vanished, as had any other man struck by a bullet. They had been swallowed by the advancing column that stepped over and past the victims, then Sharpe saw a ladder reappear as it was snatched up by a man in the fourth or fifth rank. He felt in his cartridge box for another round and began to reload.
He did not look at the rifle as he reloaded. He just did what he had been trained to do, what he could do in his sleep, and just as he primed the rifle so the first musket balls were shot from the garden wall, then the muskets opened fire from the windows and roof, and the seminary was again wreathed in smoke and noise. The cannon shots rumbled above, so close that Sharpe almost ducked once, and the case shot banged above the slope. Bullets and musket balls ripped into the French files. Close to a thousand men were in the seminary now and they were protected by stone walls and given a wide open target. Sharpe fired another shot down the hill, then walked up and down behind his men, watching. Slattery needed a new flint and Sharpe gave him one, then Tarrant’s mainspring broke and Sharpe replaced the weapon with Williamson’s old rifle which Harper had been carrying ever since they left Vila Real de Zedes.
„Rifles only!” Sharpe called. „Fire when you’re ready. Don’t waste the patch! Hagman? Go for that big man with the saber.”
„I see him, sir,” Hagman said and shifted his rifle to aim at the officer who was striding ahead, setting an example, asking to be rifle meat.
„Look for the ladders,” Sharpe reminded the others, then walked to the parapet, put his left foot on the coping and the rifle to his shoulder. He aimed at a man with a ladder, sighting on the man’s head in the expectation that the bullet would fall to take him in the lower belly or groin. The wind was in Sharpe’s face so would not drift the shot. He fired and was immediately blinded by the smoke. Hagman fired next, then there was the crackle of the other rifles. The muskets kept silent. Sharpe went to his left to see past the smoke and saw that the saber-carrying officer had vanished, as had any other man struck by a bullet. They had been swallowed by the advancing column that stepped over and past the victims, then Sharpe saw a ladder reappear as it was snatched up by a man in the fourth or fifth rank. He felt in his cartridge box for another round and began to reload.
He did not look at the rifle as he reloaded. He just did what he had been trained to do, what he could do in his sleep, and just as he primed the rifle so the first musket balls were shot from the garden wall, then the muskets opened fire from the windows and roof, and the seminary was again wreathed in smoke and noise. The cannon shots rumbled above, so close that Sharpe almost ducked once, and the case shot banged above the slope. Bullets and musket balls ripped into the French files. Close to a thousand men were in the seminary now and they were protected by stone walls and given a wide open target. Sharpe fired another shot down the hill, then walked up and down behind his men, watching. Slattery needed a new flint and Sharpe gave him one, then Tarrant’s mainspring broke and Sharpe replaced the weapon with Williamson’s old rifle which Harper had been carrying ever since they left Vila Real de Zedes.