JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 220 из 242”
„Hard to believe it’s May, eh? Worse than England. Still, don’t they say rain’s good for the complexion? You’ll be prettier than ever, my dearest.” He paused as some muskets sounded from the west. The noise rattled loud for a few seconds, echoing back and forth between the defile’s steep sides, then faded. „Chasing off bandits,” Christopher said. „It’s too soon for the pursuit to catch us up.”
„I pray they do catch us,” Kate said.
„Don’t be ridiculous, my dear. Besides, we’ve got a brigade of good infantry and a pair of cavalry regiments as rearguard.”
„We?” Kate asked indignantly. „I’m English!”
Christopher gave her a long-suffering smile. „As am I, dearest, but what we want above all is peace. Peace! And perhaps this retreat will be just the thing to persuade the French to leave Portugal alone. That’s what I’m working on. Peace.”
There was a pistol bolstered in Christopher’s saddle just behind Kate and she was tempted to pull the weapon free, thrust it into his belly and pull the trigger, but she had never fired a gun, did not know if the long-barrelled pistol was loaded, and besides, what would happen to her if Christopher were not here? Williamson would maul her. she thnnaht and for some reason she remembered the letter she had succeeded in leaving for Lieutenant Sharpe, putting it on the House Beautiful’s mantel without Christopher seeing what she was doing. She thought now what a stupid letter it was. What was she trying to tell Sharpe? And why him? What did she expect him to do?
She stared up the far hill. There were men on the high crest line and Christopher turned to see what she was looking at. „More of the scum,” he said.
„Patriots,” Kate insisted.
„Peasants with rusted muskets,” Christopher said acidly, „who torture their prisoners and have no idea, none, what principles are at stake in this war. They are the forces of old Europe,” he insisted, „superstitious and ignorant. The enemies of progress.” He grimaced, then unbuckled one of his saddlebags to make sure that his black-fronted red uniform jacket was inside. If the French were forced to surrender then that coat was his passport. He would take to the hills and if any partisans accosted him he would persuade them he was an Englishman escaping from the French.
„We’re moving, sir,” Williamson said. „Bridge is up, sir.” He knuckled his forehead to Christopher, then turned his leering face on Kate.
„Hard to believe it’s May, eh? Worse than England. Still, don’t they say rain’s good for the complexion? You’ll be prettier than ever, my dearest.” He paused as some muskets sounded from the west. The noise rattled loud for a few seconds, echoing back and forth between the defile’s steep sides, then faded. „Chasing off bandits,” Christopher said. „It’s too soon for the pursuit to catch us up.”
„I pray they do catch us,” Kate said.
„Don’t be ridiculous, my dear. Besides, we’ve got a brigade of good infantry and a pair of cavalry regiments as rearguard.”
„We?” Kate asked indignantly. „I’m English!”
Christopher gave her a long-suffering smile. „As am I, dearest, but what we want above all is peace. Peace! And perhaps this retreat will be just the thing to persuade the French to leave Portugal alone. That’s what I’m working on. Peace.”
There was a pistol bolstered in Christopher’s saddle just behind Kate and she was tempted to pull the weapon free, thrust it into his belly and pull the trigger, but she had never fired a gun, did not know if the long-barrelled pistol was loaded, and besides, what would happen to her if Christopher were not here? Williamson would maul her. she thnnaht and for some reason she remembered the letter she had succeeded in leaving for Lieutenant Sharpe, putting it on the House Beautiful’s mantel without Christopher seeing what she was doing. She thought now what a stupid letter it was. What was she trying to tell Sharpe? And why him? What did she expect him to do?
She stared up the far hill. There were men on the high crest line and Christopher turned to see what she was looking at. „More of the scum,” he said.
„Patriots,” Kate insisted.
„Peasants with rusted muskets,” Christopher said acidly, „who torture their prisoners and have no idea, none, what principles are at stake in this war. They are the forces of old Europe,” he insisted, „superstitious and ignorant. The enemies of progress.” He grimaced, then unbuckled one of his saddlebags to make sure that his black-fronted red uniform jacket was inside. If the French were forced to surrender then that coat was his passport. He would take to the hills and if any partisans accosted him he would persuade them he was an Englishman escaping from the French.
„We’re moving, sir,” Williamson said. „Bridge is up, sir.” He knuckled his forehead to Christopher, then turned his leering face on Kate.