JК
Sharpes Escape :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 114 из 283Ferreira averted his eyes as he followed the dragoons to a small hill just beyond the village where, in the shadow of Moura's windmill, Marshal Massena was eating a meal of bread, cheese and cold chicken. Ferreira dismounted and waited as the dragoon officer threaded his way through the aides, and, as he waited, the Major stared at the ridge and wondered that any general would think to throw his men up such a slope.
"Major Ferreira!" The voice was sour. A tall man in the uniform of a French colonel of dragoons approached him. "Give me one reason, Major," the Colonel said, pointing to the mill, "why we shouldn't put you against that wall and shoot you." The Colonel, though dressed as a Frenchman, was Portuguese. He had been an officer in the old Portuguese army and had seen his home burned and his family killed by the ordenanga, the Portuguese militia that had turned on the privileged classes in the chaos of the first French invasions. Colonel Barreto had joined the French, not because he hated Portugal, but because he saw no future for his country unless it was rid of superstition and anarchy. The French, he believed, would bring the blessings of modernity to Portugal, but only if the French forces were fed. "You promised us flour!" Barreto said angrily. "And instead there was British infantry waiting for us!"
"In war, Colonel, things go wrong," Ferreira said humbly. "The flour was there, my brother was there, and then a British company arrived. I tried to send them away, but they would not go." Ferreira knew he sounded weak, but he was terrified. Not of the French, but in case some officer on the ridge saw him through a telescope. He doubted that would happen. The ridge top was a long way away and his blue Portuguese jacket would look much like a French coat at that distance, but he was still frightened. Treachery was a hard trade.
Barreto seemed to accept the explanation. "I found the remnants of the flour," he admitted, "but it's a pity, Major. This army is hungry. You know what we found in this village? One half barrel of lemons. What damn good is that?"
"Coimbra," Ferreira said, "is full of food."
"Full of food, eh?" Barreto asked skeptically.
"Wheat, barley, rice, beans, figs, salt cod, beef," Ferreira said flatly.
"And how, in God's name, do we reach Coimbra, eh?" Barreto had switched to French because a group of Massena's other aides had come to listen to the conversation. The Colonel pointed to the ridge. "Those bastards, Ferreira, are between us and Coimbra."
"There is a road around the ridge," Ferreira said.
"Major Ferreira!" The voice was sour. A tall man in the uniform of a French colonel of dragoons approached him. "Give me one reason, Major," the Colonel said, pointing to the mill, "why we shouldn't put you against that wall and shoot you." The Colonel, though dressed as a Frenchman, was Portuguese. He had been an officer in the old Portuguese army and had seen his home burned and his family killed by the ordenanga, the Portuguese militia that had turned on the privileged classes in the chaos of the first French invasions. Colonel Barreto had joined the French, not because he hated Portugal, but because he saw no future for his country unless it was rid of superstition and anarchy. The French, he believed, would bring the blessings of modernity to Portugal, but only if the French forces were fed. "You promised us flour!" Barreto said angrily. "And instead there was British infantry waiting for us!"
"In war, Colonel, things go wrong," Ferreira said humbly. "The flour was there, my brother was there, and then a British company arrived. I tried to send them away, but they would not go." Ferreira knew he sounded weak, but he was terrified. Not of the French, but in case some officer on the ridge saw him through a telescope. He doubted that would happen. The ridge top was a long way away and his blue Portuguese jacket would look much like a French coat at that distance, but he was still frightened. Treachery was a hard trade.
Barreto seemed to accept the explanation. "I found the remnants of the flour," he admitted, "but it's a pity, Major. This army is hungry. You know what we found in this village? One half barrel of lemons. What damn good is that?"
"Coimbra," Ferreira said, "is full of food."
"Full of food, eh?" Barreto asked skeptically.
"Wheat, barley, rice, beans, figs, salt cod, beef," Ferreira said flatly.
"And how, in God's name, do we reach Coimbra, eh?" Barreto had switched to French because a group of Massena's other aides had come to listen to the conversation. The Colonel pointed to the ridge. "Those bastards, Ferreira, are between us and Coimbra."
"There is a road around the ridge," Ferreira said.