JК
Sharpes Battle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 136 из 244"Sadly we don't know who this new man in Portugal is, but giventime, my Lord, and a touch of carelessness on the part of Kiely's whore, we'll find him."
Wellington grunted. A rumble in the sky announced the passage of a French roundshot, but the General did not even look up to see where the shot might fall. "Damn all this fuss, Hogan, and damn Kiely and his damned men, and damn Sharpe too. Is Runciman trussed for the sacrifice?"
"He's in Vilar Formoso, my Lord."
The General nodded. "Then truss Sharpe too. Put him to administrative duties, Hogan, and warn him that his conduct will be the subject of a court of inquiry. Then inform General Valverde that we're pursuing the matter. You know what to say." Wellington pulled out a pocket watch and clicked its lid open. An expression of distaste showed on his thin face. "I suppose, if I'm here, that I'll have to visit Erskine. Or do you think the madman is still in bed?"
"I'm sure his aides will have apprised Sir William of your presence, my Lord, and I can't think he'd be flattered if you were to ignore him."
"Touchier than a virgin in a barracks room. And mad as well. Just the man, Hogan, to conduct Sharpe and Runciman's court of inquiry. Let us see, Hogan, whether Sir William is experiencing a lucid interval and can thus understand what verdict is required of him. We must sacrifice one good officer and one bad officer to draw Valverde's fangs. God damn it, Hogan, God damn it, but needs must when the devil drives. Poor Sharpe." His Lordship gave one backward glance at the town of Almeida, then led his entourage towards the besieging force's headquarters.
While Hogan worried about the narrow bridge at Castello Bom, about Sharpe and, even more, about a mysterious enemy come into Portugal to sow discord.
The house with the smoking chimney lay where the street opened into the small plaza before the church, and it was in there that the howling had begun. Sharpe, who had been rising to his feet, had crouched instantly back into the shadows as a gate beside the house creaked open.
Then the hounds had poured out. They had been pent up too long and so ran joyously up and down the deserted street. A figure wearing uniform led a horse and a mule out and then turned away from Sharpe, evidently planning to leave San Cristobal by the gated entrance on the village's far side. One of the hounds leaped playfully at the mule and received a curse and a kick for its trouble.
The curse sounded plainly in the street.
Wellington grunted. A rumble in the sky announced the passage of a French roundshot, but the General did not even look up to see where the shot might fall. "Damn all this fuss, Hogan, and damn Kiely and his damned men, and damn Sharpe too. Is Runciman trussed for the sacrifice?"
"He's in Vilar Formoso, my Lord."
The General nodded. "Then truss Sharpe too. Put him to administrative duties, Hogan, and warn him that his conduct will be the subject of a court of inquiry. Then inform General Valverde that we're pursuing the matter. You know what to say." Wellington pulled out a pocket watch and clicked its lid open. An expression of distaste showed on his thin face. "I suppose, if I'm here, that I'll have to visit Erskine. Or do you think the madman is still in bed?"
"I'm sure his aides will have apprised Sir William of your presence, my Lord, and I can't think he'd be flattered if you were to ignore him."
"Touchier than a virgin in a barracks room. And mad as well. Just the man, Hogan, to conduct Sharpe and Runciman's court of inquiry. Let us see, Hogan, whether Sir William is experiencing a lucid interval and can thus understand what verdict is required of him. We must sacrifice one good officer and one bad officer to draw Valverde's fangs. God damn it, Hogan, God damn it, but needs must when the devil drives. Poor Sharpe." His Lordship gave one backward glance at the town of Almeida, then led his entourage towards the besieging force's headquarters.
While Hogan worried about the narrow bridge at Castello Bom, about Sharpe and, even more, about a mysterious enemy come into Portugal to sow discord.
The house with the smoking chimney lay where the street opened into the small plaza before the church, and it was in there that the howling had begun. Sharpe, who had been rising to his feet, had crouched instantly back into the shadows as a gate beside the house creaked open.
Then the hounds had poured out. They had been pent up too long and so ran joyously up and down the deserted street. A figure wearing uniform led a horse and a mule out and then turned away from Sharpe, evidently planning to leave San Cristobal by the gated entrance on the village's far side. One of the hounds leaped playfully at the mule and received a curse and a kick for its trouble.
The curse sounded plainly in the street.