JК
Sharpes Escape :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 111 из 283" And the last word had all the insolence that could be invested in a single syllable.
Lawford looked furious, but again said nothing for a few seconds. Then, abruptly, he nodded. "You were a quartermaster once, I believe?"
"I was, sir."
"Mister Kiley is indisposed. For the moment, while I decide what to do with you, you will assume his duties."
"Yes, sir," Sharpe responded woodenly, betraying no reaction. Lawford hesitated, as though there was something more to be said, then crammed on his cocked hat and turned away. "Sir," Sharpe said.
Lawford turned, said nothing.
"Mister Iliffe, sir," Sharpe said. "He fought well today. If you're writing to his family, sir, then you can tell them truthfully that he fought very well."
"A pity, then, that he's dead," Lawford said bitterly and walked away, beckoning Knowles to accompany him.
Forrest sighed. "Why not just apologize, Richard?"
"Because he damned well nearly had my company killed."
"I know that," Forrest said, "and the Colonel knows it, and Mister Slingsby knows it and your company knows it. So eat humble pie, Sharpe, and go back to them."
"He"-Sharpe pointed at the retreating figure of the Colonel-"wants rid of me. He wants his goddamned brother-in-law in charge of the skirmishers."
"He doesn't want rid of you, Sharpe," Forrest said patiently. "Good God, he knows how good you are! But he has to bring on Slingsby. Family business, eh? His wife wants him to make Slingsby's career, and what a wife wants, Sharpe, a wife gets."
"He wants rid of me," Sharpe insisted. "And if I apologize, Major, then sooner or later I'd still be out on my ear, so I might as well go now."
"Don't go far," Forrest said with a smile.
"Why not?"
"Mister Slingsby drinks," Forrest said quietly.
"He does?"
"Far too much," Forrest said. "He's holding it in check for now, hoping a new battalion will give him a new beginning, but I fear for him. I had a similar problem myself, Richard, though I'll thank you not to tell anyone. I suspect our Mister Slingsby will revert to his old behavior in the end. Most men do."
"You didn't."
"Not yet, Sharpe, not yet." Forrest smiled. "But think on what I've said. Mutter an apology to the man, eh? And let it all blow over."
When hell froze over, Sharpe thought. Because he would not apologize.
And Slingsby had the light company.
Major Ferreira had read his brother's letter shortly after the last French column had been defeated. "He wants an answer, senhor. " Miguel, Ferragus's messenger, had said.
Lawford looked furious, but again said nothing for a few seconds. Then, abruptly, he nodded. "You were a quartermaster once, I believe?"
"I was, sir."
"Mister Kiley is indisposed. For the moment, while I decide what to do with you, you will assume his duties."
"Yes, sir," Sharpe responded woodenly, betraying no reaction. Lawford hesitated, as though there was something more to be said, then crammed on his cocked hat and turned away. "Sir," Sharpe said.
Lawford turned, said nothing.
"Mister Iliffe, sir," Sharpe said. "He fought well today. If you're writing to his family, sir, then you can tell them truthfully that he fought very well."
"A pity, then, that he's dead," Lawford said bitterly and walked away, beckoning Knowles to accompany him.
Forrest sighed. "Why not just apologize, Richard?"
"Because he damned well nearly had my company killed."
"I know that," Forrest said, "and the Colonel knows it, and Mister Slingsby knows it and your company knows it. So eat humble pie, Sharpe, and go back to them."
"He"-Sharpe pointed at the retreating figure of the Colonel-"wants rid of me. He wants his goddamned brother-in-law in charge of the skirmishers."
"He doesn't want rid of you, Sharpe," Forrest said patiently. "Good God, he knows how good you are! But he has to bring on Slingsby. Family business, eh? His wife wants him to make Slingsby's career, and what a wife wants, Sharpe, a wife gets."
"He wants rid of me," Sharpe insisted. "And if I apologize, Major, then sooner or later I'd still be out on my ear, so I might as well go now."
"Don't go far," Forrest said with a smile.
"Why not?"
"Mister Slingsby drinks," Forrest said quietly.
"He does?"
"Far too much," Forrest said. "He's holding it in check for now, hoping a new battalion will give him a new beginning, but I fear for him. I had a similar problem myself, Richard, though I'll thank you not to tell anyone. I suspect our Mister Slingsby will revert to his old behavior in the end. Most men do."
"You didn't."
"Not yet, Sharpe, not yet." Forrest smiled. "But think on what I've said. Mutter an apology to the man, eh? And let it all blow over."
When hell froze over, Sharpe thought. Because he would not apologize.
And Slingsby had the light company.
Major Ferreira had read his brother's letter shortly after the last French column had been defeated. "He wants an answer, senhor. " Miguel, Ferragus's messenger, had said.