JК
Sharpes Battle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 141 из 244"
Juanita's head jerked up at the last phrase, but she made no effort to contradict Sharpe. Donaju stared at her as though he was unwilling to believe what he had just heard. Then he turned back to Sharpe with a frown. "She and Loup?" he asked.
"Their love nest's upstairs, for Christ's sake," Sharpe said. "Go and look if you don't believe me. Her ladyship here let Loup into the fort last night. Her ladyship, Donaju, is a goddamned traitor."
"Hymn sheets, sir," Hagman interrupted in a puzzled tone. "But bloody odd ones. I've seen things like it at church at home, you know, for the musicians, but not like this." The old poacher had unpacked the panniers to reveal a great pile of manuscripts that were lined with staves and inscribed with words and music.
"They're very old." Donaju was still dazed by the revelations about Juanita, but now moved across to examine the papers unearthed by Hagman. "See, Sharpe? Just four staves instead of five. They could be two or three hundred years old. Latin words. Let's see now." He frowned as he made a mental translation. " 'Clap your hands, everyone, call unto God with a voice of victory. The psalms, I think."
"She wasn't carrying the psalms back to our lines," Sharpe said, and he seized the top manuscripts off the pile and began sorting through them. It took only seconds to find that there were newspapers hidden beneath the disguising manuscripts. "These, Donaju" — Sharpe held up the newspapers — "these are what she was carrying."
Juanita's only reaction to the discovery was to start biting one of her nails. She glanced at the kitchen door, but Harper had come back to the house and the courtyard was now filled with his riflemen. "Place is empty, sir. Bugger's gone," Harper reported, "and he left in a rare hurry, sir, for the place is still stuffed with plunder. Something drove him out in a hurry." He nodded respectfully to Captain Donaju. "Your fellows are manning the defences, sir."
"They're not American newspapers this time," Sharpe said, "but English ones. Learned their lesson last time, didn't they? Make a newspaper too old and no one believes the stories, but these dates are just last week." He threw the papers on the table one by one. "The Morning Chronicle, the Weekly Dispatch, the Salisbury Journal, the Staffordshire Advertiser, someone's been busy, my lady. Who? Someone in Paris? Is that where these papers are printed?"
Juanita said nothing.
Sharpe plucked another newspaper from the pile. "Probably printed three weeks ago in Paris and brought here just in time.
Juanita's head jerked up at the last phrase, but she made no effort to contradict Sharpe. Donaju stared at her as though he was unwilling to believe what he had just heard. Then he turned back to Sharpe with a frown. "She and Loup?" he asked.
"Their love nest's upstairs, for Christ's sake," Sharpe said. "Go and look if you don't believe me. Her ladyship here let Loup into the fort last night. Her ladyship, Donaju, is a goddamned traitor."
"Hymn sheets, sir," Hagman interrupted in a puzzled tone. "But bloody odd ones. I've seen things like it at church at home, you know, for the musicians, but not like this." The old poacher had unpacked the panniers to reveal a great pile of manuscripts that were lined with staves and inscribed with words and music.
"They're very old." Donaju was still dazed by the revelations about Juanita, but now moved across to examine the papers unearthed by Hagman. "See, Sharpe? Just four staves instead of five. They could be two or three hundred years old. Latin words. Let's see now." He frowned as he made a mental translation. " 'Clap your hands, everyone, call unto God with a voice of victory. The psalms, I think."
"She wasn't carrying the psalms back to our lines," Sharpe said, and he seized the top manuscripts off the pile and began sorting through them. It took only seconds to find that there were newspapers hidden beneath the disguising manuscripts. "These, Donaju" — Sharpe held up the newspapers — "these are what she was carrying."
Juanita's only reaction to the discovery was to start biting one of her nails. She glanced at the kitchen door, but Harper had come back to the house and the courtyard was now filled with his riflemen. "Place is empty, sir. Bugger's gone," Harper reported, "and he left in a rare hurry, sir, for the place is still stuffed with plunder. Something drove him out in a hurry." He nodded respectfully to Captain Donaju. "Your fellows are manning the defences, sir."
"They're not American newspapers this time," Sharpe said, "but English ones. Learned their lesson last time, didn't they? Make a newspaper too old and no one believes the stories, but these dates are just last week." He threw the papers on the table one by one. "The Morning Chronicle, the Weekly Dispatch, the Salisbury Journal, the Staffordshire Advertiser, someone's been busy, my lady. Who? Someone in Paris? Is that where these papers are printed?"
Juanita said nothing.
Sharpe plucked another newspaper from the pile. "Probably printed three weeks ago in Paris and brought here just in time.