JК
Sharpes Gold :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 143 из 179"
'Sir! But Lossow grabbed him, took him away, and Cox turned back to the damp walls and the problem of moving thousands of rounds of musket cartridges up to the cathedral floor.
Sharpe resisted the German's pull. 'I will not give up the gold.
'I know, I know. Listen, my friend. You go to the headquarters and I will go back. I promise you, no one will touch the gold. No one.
Lossow's face was deep in shadow, but by the tone of his voice Sharpe knew the gold was safe. He turned to Harper. 'Go with him. On my orders no one, but no one, is to go near that gold. You understand?
'Yes, sir. You'll be careful in the street?
'They're full of soldiers. I'll be fine. Now go.
The two went ahead. Sharpe called after them. 'Patrick?
'Sir?
'Look after the girl.
The big Irishman nodded. 'You know I will, sir.
The cathedral bells reverberated with noon, the sun was almost directly overhead, and Sharpe walked slowly across the main Plaza behind two men pushing a barrel of gunpowder. The big French gun, as he had thought, had done its job and was silent, but out there, beyond the spreading ramparts and beyond the killing-ground, the French would be digging their trenches, making new batteries, and the oxen would be hauling the giant guns towards the siege. Almeida was about to become the war, the point of effort, and when it fell, there was nothing between Massena and the sea, except the gold, and suddenly Sharpe stopped, utterly still, and stared at the Portuguese soldiers who came and went by the cathedral. The gold, Hogan had said, was more important than men or horses. The General, Sharpe remembered, had spoken of delaying the enemy, bringing him to battle, but none of that effort would save Portugal. Only the gold. He looked at the castle, with its granite masonry and the stump of the telegraph jutting a brief shadow over the battlement, and then at the cathedral with its carved saints, and despite the sun, the blistering heat, he felt cold. Was it more important than this? Than a town and its defenders? Out there, beyond the houses, were all the paraphernalia of a scientific defence. The great grey defences of this town, the star-shape of glacis and covered way, of town ditch and counter-guard, of bastion and battery, and he shivered. He was not afraid of decisions; they were his job and he despised men who feared to make them. But in the sudden moment, in the middle of the great Plaza, he felt the fear.
He waited through the long afternoon, listening to the bells of Sunday, the last peaceful day Almeida would know in a long time, and still Cox did not come.
'Sir! But Lossow grabbed him, took him away, and Cox turned back to the damp walls and the problem of moving thousands of rounds of musket cartridges up to the cathedral floor.
Sharpe resisted the German's pull. 'I will not give up the gold.
'I know, I know. Listen, my friend. You go to the headquarters and I will go back. I promise you, no one will touch the gold. No one.
Lossow's face was deep in shadow, but by the tone of his voice Sharpe knew the gold was safe. He turned to Harper. 'Go with him. On my orders no one, but no one, is to go near that gold. You understand?
'Yes, sir. You'll be careful in the street?
'They're full of soldiers. I'll be fine. Now go.
The two went ahead. Sharpe called after them. 'Patrick?
'Sir?
'Look after the girl.
The big Irishman nodded. 'You know I will, sir.
The cathedral bells reverberated with noon, the sun was almost directly overhead, and Sharpe walked slowly across the main Plaza behind two men pushing a barrel of gunpowder. The big French gun, as he had thought, had done its job and was silent, but out there, beyond the spreading ramparts and beyond the killing-ground, the French would be digging their trenches, making new batteries, and the oxen would be hauling the giant guns towards the siege. Almeida was about to become the war, the point of effort, and when it fell, there was nothing between Massena and the sea, except the gold, and suddenly Sharpe stopped, utterly still, and stared at the Portuguese soldiers who came and went by the cathedral. The gold, Hogan had said, was more important than men or horses. The General, Sharpe remembered, had spoken of delaying the enemy, bringing him to battle, but none of that effort would save Portugal. Only the gold. He looked at the castle, with its granite masonry and the stump of the telegraph jutting a brief shadow over the battlement, and then at the cathedral with its carved saints, and despite the sun, the blistering heat, he felt cold. Was it more important than this? Than a town and its defenders? Out there, beyond the houses, were all the paraphernalia of a scientific defence. The great grey defences of this town, the star-shape of glacis and covered way, of town ditch and counter-guard, of bastion and battery, and he shivered. He was not afraid of decisions; they were his job and he despised men who feared to make them. But in the sudden moment, in the middle of the great Plaza, he felt the fear.
He waited through the long afternoon, listening to the bells of Sunday, the last peaceful day Almeida would know in a long time, and still Cox did not come.