JК
Sharpes Battle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 112 из 244"Maybe I am intended for higher things, Sharpe? My mother always believed as much. How else do you explain my survival?" Sharpe was more inclined to believe that the Colonel had lived because the French had been under orders to leave the whole gatehouse complex untouched, but he did not think it kind to say as much.
"I'm just glad you're alive, General," Sharpe said instead.
"I would have died hard, Sharpe! I had both my pistols double-shotted! I would have taken some of them with me, believe you me. No one can say a Runciman goes into eternity alone!" The Colonel shuddered as the night's horrors came back to him. "Have you seen any evidence of breakfast, Sharpe?" he asked in an attempt to restore his spirits.
"Try Lord Kiely's cook, General. He was frying bacon not ten minutes ago and I don't suppose his Lordship's got much of an appetite. I just challenged the yellow bastard to a fight."
Runciman looked shocked. "You did what, Sharpe? A duel? Don't you know duelling is illegal in the army?"
"I never said anything about a duel, General. I just offered to beat the hell out of him right here and now, but he seemed to have other things on his mind."
Runciman shook his head. "Dear me, Sharpe, dear me. I can't think you'll come to a good end, but I shall be sad when it happens. What a scamp you are! Bacon? Lord Kiely's cook, you said?"
Runciman waddled away and Sharpe watched him go. "In ten years' time, Pat," Sharpe said, "he'll have turned last night's mess into a rare old story. How General Runciman saved the fort, armed to the jowls and fighting off the whole Loup Brigade."
"Runcibubble 's harmless," Harper said.
"He's harmless, Pat," Sharpe agreed, "so long as you keep the fool out of harm's way. And I almost failed to do that, didn't I?"
"You, sir? You didn't fail last night."
"Oh, but I did, Pat. I failed. I failed badly. I didn't see that Loup would out-clever me, and I didn't hammer the truth into Oliveira's skull, and I never saw how dangerously trapped we were in those barracks." He flinched, remembering the fetid, humid, dust-laden darkness of the night and the awful, scrabbling sound as the French tried to break through the thin masonry shell. "We survived because some poor fool set light to an ammunition wagon," Sharpe admitted, "not because we outfought Loup. We didn't. He won and we got beat."
"But we're alive, sir."
"So's Loup, Pat, so's Loup, God damn him."
But Tom Garrard was not alive. Tom Garrard had died, though at first Sharpe did not recognize his friend, for the body was so scorched and mutilated by fire.
"I'm just glad you're alive, General," Sharpe said instead.
"I would have died hard, Sharpe! I had both my pistols double-shotted! I would have taken some of them with me, believe you me. No one can say a Runciman goes into eternity alone!" The Colonel shuddered as the night's horrors came back to him. "Have you seen any evidence of breakfast, Sharpe?" he asked in an attempt to restore his spirits.
"Try Lord Kiely's cook, General. He was frying bacon not ten minutes ago and I don't suppose his Lordship's got much of an appetite. I just challenged the yellow bastard to a fight."
Runciman looked shocked. "You did what, Sharpe? A duel? Don't you know duelling is illegal in the army?"
"I never said anything about a duel, General. I just offered to beat the hell out of him right here and now, but he seemed to have other things on his mind."
Runciman shook his head. "Dear me, Sharpe, dear me. I can't think you'll come to a good end, but I shall be sad when it happens. What a scamp you are! Bacon? Lord Kiely's cook, you said?"
Runciman waddled away and Sharpe watched him go. "In ten years' time, Pat," Sharpe said, "he'll have turned last night's mess into a rare old story. How General Runciman saved the fort, armed to the jowls and fighting off the whole Loup Brigade."
"Runcibubble 's harmless," Harper said.
"He's harmless, Pat," Sharpe agreed, "so long as you keep the fool out of harm's way. And I almost failed to do that, didn't I?"
"You, sir? You didn't fail last night."
"Oh, but I did, Pat. I failed. I failed badly. I didn't see that Loup would out-clever me, and I didn't hammer the truth into Oliveira's skull, and I never saw how dangerously trapped we were in those barracks." He flinched, remembering the fetid, humid, dust-laden darkness of the night and the awful, scrabbling sound as the French tried to break through the thin masonry shell. "We survived because some poor fool set light to an ammunition wagon," Sharpe admitted, "not because we outfought Loup. We didn't. He won and we got beat."
"But we're alive, sir."
"So's Loup, Pat, so's Loup, God damn him."
But Tom Garrard was not alive. Tom Garrard had died, though at first Sharpe did not recognize his friend, for the body was so scorched and mutilated by fire.