JК
Sharpes Sword :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 10 из 213Allthree, Sharpe knew, would have to be taken before the British left the city and pursued the French army that had withdrawn to the north.
He looked down from the forts to the river. It flowed slowly under the bridge between green trees. Marsh harriers, their wing tips flicked up, glided between green islands. Sharpe looked again at the magnificence of the golden-stoned Cathedral and looked forward to entering the city. He did not know when that would be. Once the far end of the bridge was secured by the Sixth Division, the South Essex would march two miles east to the nearest ford and then go north to join the rest of the army. Few men of Wellington’s forces would see Salamanca until Marmont’s army was defeated, but it was enough for Sharpe, at this moment, to stare at the intricate, serene beauty across the river and to hope that soon, very soon, he would have a chance to explore the streets once more.
Colonel Windham’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “Extraordinary!”
“Extraordinary, sir?”
Windham gestured with his riding crop at the Cathedral, then at the river. “Cathedral, Sharpe. River. Just like Gloucester.”
“I thought Gloucester was flat, sir.”
Windham sniffed at the comment. “River and cathedral. Much the same, really.”
“It’s a beautiful city, sir.”
“Gloucester? Of course it is! It’s English. Clean streets. Not like that damned place.” Windham probably never ventured out of the main street of any English town to explore the rubbish clogged alleyways and rookeries. The Colonel was a countryman, with the virtues of the country, and a deep suspicion of all things foreign. He was no fool, though Sharpe suspected that Lieutenant Colonel Windham sometimes liked to play the fool to avoid that most hurtful of all English insults; being too clever by half. Windham now twisted in his saddle and looked back at the resting Battalion. “Here comes that Frenchman.”
Delmas saluted Windham. Major Leroy had come with him and translated for the Colonel’s benefit. “Captain Delmas asks when he can be sent on to Headquarters, sir.”
“In a damned hurry, ain’t he?” Windham’s tanned leathery face scowled, then he shrugged. “Suppose he wants to get exchanged before the damn frogs run all the way to Paris.”
Delmas was leaning far down from his saddle to let one of the Colonel’s dogs lick his fingers. Leroy spoke with him while Windham fidgeted. The Major turned back to the Colonel. “He’d be grateful for an early exchange, sir. He says his mother is ill and he’s keen to get news of her.
He looked down from the forts to the river. It flowed slowly under the bridge between green trees. Marsh harriers, their wing tips flicked up, glided between green islands. Sharpe looked again at the magnificence of the golden-stoned Cathedral and looked forward to entering the city. He did not know when that would be. Once the far end of the bridge was secured by the Sixth Division, the South Essex would march two miles east to the nearest ford and then go north to join the rest of the army. Few men of Wellington’s forces would see Salamanca until Marmont’s army was defeated, but it was enough for Sharpe, at this moment, to stare at the intricate, serene beauty across the river and to hope that soon, very soon, he would have a chance to explore the streets once more.
Colonel Windham’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “Extraordinary!”
“Extraordinary, sir?”
Windham gestured with his riding crop at the Cathedral, then at the river. “Cathedral, Sharpe. River. Just like Gloucester.”
“I thought Gloucester was flat, sir.”
Windham sniffed at the comment. “River and cathedral. Much the same, really.”
“It’s a beautiful city, sir.”
“Gloucester? Of course it is! It’s English. Clean streets. Not like that damned place.” Windham probably never ventured out of the main street of any English town to explore the rubbish clogged alleyways and rookeries. The Colonel was a countryman, with the virtues of the country, and a deep suspicion of all things foreign. He was no fool, though Sharpe suspected that Lieutenant Colonel Windham sometimes liked to play the fool to avoid that most hurtful of all English insults; being too clever by half. Windham now twisted in his saddle and looked back at the resting Battalion. “Here comes that Frenchman.”
Delmas saluted Windham. Major Leroy had come with him and translated for the Colonel’s benefit. “Captain Delmas asks when he can be sent on to Headquarters, sir.”
“In a damned hurry, ain’t he?” Windham’s tanned leathery face scowled, then he shrugged. “Suppose he wants to get exchanged before the damn frogs run all the way to Paris.”
Delmas was leaning far down from his saddle to let one of the Colonel’s dogs lick his fingers. Leroy spoke with him while Windham fidgeted. The Major turned back to the Colonel. “He’d be grateful for an early exchange, sir. He says his mother is ill and he’s keen to get news of her.