JК
Sharpes Battle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 146 из 244"You let an enemy agent go back to the French? Are you entirely mad, Richard?"
"She was upset, sir. She said that if I took her back to the army she'd be arrested by the Spanish authorities and tried by the junta in Cadiz, sir, and like as not put in front of a firing squad. I've never been one for fighting against women, sir. And we know who she is, don't we? So she can't do any harm now."
Hogan closed his eyes and rested his head on his forearm. "Dear God, in Your infinite mercy please save this poor bugger's soul because Wellington sure as hell will not. Did it not occur to you, Richard, that I would have liked to talk to the lady?"
"It did, sir. But she was frightened. And she didn't want me to leave her alone with El Castrador. I was just being a gentleman, sir."
"I thought you didn't approve of the gentry fighting wars. So what did you do? Pat her little bum, dry her maidenly tears, then give her a soulful kiss and send her down to Loup so she could tell him how you're stranded in San Cristobal?"
"I let her go a couple of miles back" — Sharpe jerked his head north and west—"and made her travel on foot, sir, without any boots. I reckoned that would slow her down. And she did talk to me before she left, sir. It's all written down there if you can make out my handwriting. She says she distributed the newspapers, sir. She took them down to Irish encampments, sir."
"The only thing that Dona Juanita could distribute, Richard, is the pox. Jesus wept! You let that bitch twist you round her little fingers. For Christ's sake, Richard, I already knew she was the one fetching the newspapers. She was an errand girl. The real villain is someone else and I was hoping to follow her to him. Now you've buggered that up. Jesus!" Hogan paused to contain his anger, then shook his head wearily. "But at least she left you your bloody jacket."
Sharpe frowned in puzzlement. "My jacket, sir?"
"Remember what I told you, Richard? How the Lady Juanita collects the uniforms of every man she sleeps with. Her wardrobes must be vast, but I'm glad to see she won't be hanging a jacket of rifle green along with all the other coats."
"No, sir," Sharpe said, and blushed an even deeper red. "Sorry, sir."
"It can't be helped," Hogan said as he wriggled back from the crest. "You're an idiot for women and always were. If we thrash Massйna then the lady can't do us much harm, and if we don't, then the war's probably lost anyway. Let's get you the hell out of here. You're on administrative duties till your crucifixion." He backed away from the crest and put his telescope back into a belt pouch.
"She was upset, sir. She said that if I took her back to the army she'd be arrested by the Spanish authorities and tried by the junta in Cadiz, sir, and like as not put in front of a firing squad. I've never been one for fighting against women, sir. And we know who she is, don't we? So she can't do any harm now."
Hogan closed his eyes and rested his head on his forearm. "Dear God, in Your infinite mercy please save this poor bugger's soul because Wellington sure as hell will not. Did it not occur to you, Richard, that I would have liked to talk to the lady?"
"It did, sir. But she was frightened. And she didn't want me to leave her alone with El Castrador. I was just being a gentleman, sir."
"I thought you didn't approve of the gentry fighting wars. So what did you do? Pat her little bum, dry her maidenly tears, then give her a soulful kiss and send her down to Loup so she could tell him how you're stranded in San Cristobal?"
"I let her go a couple of miles back" — Sharpe jerked his head north and west—"and made her travel on foot, sir, without any boots. I reckoned that would slow her down. And she did talk to me before she left, sir. It's all written down there if you can make out my handwriting. She says she distributed the newspapers, sir. She took them down to Irish encampments, sir."
"The only thing that Dona Juanita could distribute, Richard, is the pox. Jesus wept! You let that bitch twist you round her little fingers. For Christ's sake, Richard, I already knew she was the one fetching the newspapers. She was an errand girl. The real villain is someone else and I was hoping to follow her to him. Now you've buggered that up. Jesus!" Hogan paused to contain his anger, then shook his head wearily. "But at least she left you your bloody jacket."
Sharpe frowned in puzzlement. "My jacket, sir?"
"Remember what I told you, Richard? How the Lady Juanita collects the uniforms of every man she sleeps with. Her wardrobes must be vast, but I'm glad to see she won't be hanging a jacket of rifle green along with all the other coats."
"No, sir," Sharpe said, and blushed an even deeper red. "Sorry, sir."
"It can't be helped," Hogan said as he wriggled back from the crest. "You're an idiot for women and always were. If we thrash Massйna then the lady can't do us much harm, and if we don't, then the war's probably lost anyway. Let's get you the hell out of here. You're on administrative duties till your crucifixion." He backed away from the crest and put his telescope back into a belt pouch.