JК
Sharpes Gold :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 153 из 179'Sergeant,meet Tom Garrard. Once a Sergeant in the Thirty-third, now a Lieutenant in the Portuguese army. He took Garrard's hand, shook it. 'You bastard. How are you?
Garrard beamed at him, turned to Harper. 'We were Sergeants together. Christ, Dick, it must be bloody years. I remember you blowing the face off that bloody little heathen! It's good to see you. A bloody Captain! What's the world coming to? He gave Sharpe a salute and laughed.
'It's years since anyone called me Dick. You well?
'Chipper. Couldn't be better. He jerked a thumb at his men. 'Good lads, these. Fight like us. Well, well, well. You remember that girl in Sering? Nancy?
Sharpe's men looked at Garrard curiously. It was a year since the Portuguese government had asked the British to reorganize their army and one of the changes, started by the Englishman, Marshal Beresford, who now commanded the Portuguese troops, was to offer commissions to experienced British Sergeants so that the raw, untrained Portuguese troops were given officers who knew how to fight. It was good, Garrard said, and working well, and he looked at Harper.
'You should join up, Sergeant.
Harper grinned, shook his head. 'I'll stay with him.
'You could do worse. Garrard looked at Sharpe. Trouble?
'It's over.
Garrard sheathed his sword. 'Anything I can do?
'Open a gate for us. Tonight.
Garrard looked at him shrewdly. 'How many of you?
'Two hundred and fifty. Cavalry and us.
'Christ, mate. That's impossible. I thought you meant just you seven only. He stopped, grinned. 'You with this gold?
'That's us. You know about it?
'God Almighty! Bloody orders from everyone to stop the gold leaving. We didn't even know there was any gold here. He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Dick. Can't help.
Sharpe grinned. 'Doesn't matter. We'll manage.
'You will. He grinned again. 'I heard about Talavera. That was bloody well done. It really was.
Sharpe pointed at Harper. 'He was with me.
Garrard nodded to the Irishman. 'Proud of you. He looked at his men. 'We'll do it next time, won't we, lads? The Portuguese smiled back, nodded shyly to Sharpe.
'We must go, Tom. Work to do. The farewells were said, promises to look each other up, that might or might not ever be kept, and Sharpe accepted Garrard's offer for the Portuguese soldiers to clear the bodies off the street.
'Go easy, Dick!
'And you. Sharpe looked at Harper. 'Did you see El Catolico?
The Sergeant shook his head. 'There were enough of them, sir.
Garrard beamed at him, turned to Harper. 'We were Sergeants together. Christ, Dick, it must be bloody years. I remember you blowing the face off that bloody little heathen! It's good to see you. A bloody Captain! What's the world coming to? He gave Sharpe a salute and laughed.
'It's years since anyone called me Dick. You well?
'Chipper. Couldn't be better. He jerked a thumb at his men. 'Good lads, these. Fight like us. Well, well, well. You remember that girl in Sering? Nancy?
Sharpe's men looked at Garrard curiously. It was a year since the Portuguese government had asked the British to reorganize their army and one of the changes, started by the Englishman, Marshal Beresford, who now commanded the Portuguese troops, was to offer commissions to experienced British Sergeants so that the raw, untrained Portuguese troops were given officers who knew how to fight. It was good, Garrard said, and working well, and he looked at Harper.
'You should join up, Sergeant.
Harper grinned, shook his head. 'I'll stay with him.
'You could do worse. Garrard looked at Sharpe. Trouble?
'It's over.
Garrard sheathed his sword. 'Anything I can do?
'Open a gate for us. Tonight.
Garrard looked at him shrewdly. 'How many of you?
'Two hundred and fifty. Cavalry and us.
'Christ, mate. That's impossible. I thought you meant just you seven only. He stopped, grinned. 'You with this gold?
'That's us. You know about it?
'God Almighty! Bloody orders from everyone to stop the gold leaving. We didn't even know there was any gold here. He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Dick. Can't help.
Sharpe grinned. 'Doesn't matter. We'll manage.
'You will. He grinned again. 'I heard about Talavera. That was bloody well done. It really was.
Sharpe pointed at Harper. 'He was with me.
Garrard nodded to the Irishman. 'Proud of you. He looked at his men. 'We'll do it next time, won't we, lads? The Portuguese smiled back, nodded shyly to Sharpe.
'We must go, Tom. Work to do. The farewells were said, promises to look each other up, that might or might not ever be kept, and Sharpe accepted Garrard's offer for the Portuguese soldiers to clear the bodies off the street.
'Go easy, Dick!
'And you. Sharpe looked at Harper. 'Did you see El Catolico?
The Sergeant shook his head. 'There were enough of them, sir.