JК
Sharpes Escape :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 261 из 283"
There was a moment's comparative silence, though the cannon from the heights were loud and Sharpe realized thatthe artillery in the forts was shooting at the men attacking the farm because he could hear the shrapnel rattling on the roof. The riflemen in the attic were still firing. Their rate was slow, and that was good, signifying that Vicente was making sure they aimed true before pulling the triggers. He looked across at the prisoners, reckoning he could use Perkins's rifle and the muskets that Joana and Sarah carried. "Sergeant Harper?"
"Sir!"
"Tie those bastards up. Hands and feet. Use musket slings." A half-dozen men helped Harper. As Ferragus was trussed he stared up at Sharpe, but he made no resistance. Sharpe tied the Major's hands as well. Slingsby was on his hands and knees, rooting at the packs piled behind the front door, and when he had found his bag with its supply of rum he went back to the hearth and uncorked the canteen. "Poor bloody bastard," Sharpe said, amazed that he could feel any pity for Slingsby. "How long has he been lushed?"
"Since Coimbra," Bullen said, "more or less continuously."
"I only saw him drunk once," Sharpe said.
"He was probably scared of you, sir," Bullen said.
"Of me?" Sharpe sounded surprised. He crossed to the hearth and went on one knee and looked into Slingsby's face. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he said, "for being rude to you."
Slingsby blinked at Sharpe, confusion and then surprise on his face.
"You hear me?" Sharpe asked.
"Decent of you, Sharpe," Slingsby said, then drank some more.
"There, Mister Bullen, you heard me. One apology."
Bullen grinned, was about to speak, but just then the rifles in the roof sounded and Sharpe turned to the windows. "Be ready!"
The French came at the back again, but this time they had assembled a large force of voltigeurs with orders to pour fire through the one window while a dozen men cleared the steps of bodies to make way for an assault party, who made the mistake of giving a huge cheer as they charged. Sharpe whipped open the door and Harper ordered the front rank to fire, then the second, then the third, and the bodies piled again at the foot of the steps, but the French kept coming, scrambling over the bodies, and a musket cracked just beside Sharpe's ear and he saw it was Sarah, firing into the persistent attack. And still more Frenchmen came up the steps and Harper had the reloaded first rank fire, but a blue-coated man survived the fusillade and burst through the door where Sharpe met him with the point of the sword.
There was a moment's comparative silence, though the cannon from the heights were loud and Sharpe realized thatthe artillery in the forts was shooting at the men attacking the farm because he could hear the shrapnel rattling on the roof. The riflemen in the attic were still firing. Their rate was slow, and that was good, signifying that Vicente was making sure they aimed true before pulling the triggers. He looked across at the prisoners, reckoning he could use Perkins's rifle and the muskets that Joana and Sarah carried. "Sergeant Harper?"
"Sir!"
"Tie those bastards up. Hands and feet. Use musket slings." A half-dozen men helped Harper. As Ferragus was trussed he stared up at Sharpe, but he made no resistance. Sharpe tied the Major's hands as well. Slingsby was on his hands and knees, rooting at the packs piled behind the front door, and when he had found his bag with its supply of rum he went back to the hearth and uncorked the canteen. "Poor bloody bastard," Sharpe said, amazed that he could feel any pity for Slingsby. "How long has he been lushed?"
"Since Coimbra," Bullen said, "more or less continuously."
"I only saw him drunk once," Sharpe said.
"He was probably scared of you, sir," Bullen said.
"Of me?" Sharpe sounded surprised. He crossed to the hearth and went on one knee and looked into Slingsby's face. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he said, "for being rude to you."
Slingsby blinked at Sharpe, confusion and then surprise on his face.
"You hear me?" Sharpe asked.
"Decent of you, Sharpe," Slingsby said, then drank some more.
"There, Mister Bullen, you heard me. One apology."
Bullen grinned, was about to speak, but just then the rifles in the roof sounded and Sharpe turned to the windows. "Be ready!"
The French came at the back again, but this time they had assembled a large force of voltigeurs with orders to pour fire through the one window while a dozen men cleared the steps of bodies to make way for an assault party, who made the mistake of giving a huge cheer as they charged. Sharpe whipped open the door and Harper ordered the front rank to fire, then the second, then the third, and the bodies piled again at the foot of the steps, but the French kept coming, scrambling over the bodies, and a musket cracked just beside Sharpe's ear and he saw it was Sarah, firing into the persistent attack. And still more Frenchmen came up the steps and Harper had the reloaded first rank fire, but a blue-coated man survived the fusillade and burst through the door where Sharpe met him with the point of the sword.