JК
Sharpes Gold :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 166 из 179The ovens were curved shapes in the blackness, cold to the touch, andTeresa shivered beside him despite being swathed in the Rifleman's long green greatcoat. He ached. His leg, shoulder, the sliced cuts either side of his waist, and a head that throbbed after talking too deep into the early morning.
Knowles had pleaded, 'There must be another way!
'Tell me.
Now, in the cold silence, Sharpe still tried to find another way. To talk to Cox? Or Kearsey? But only Sharpe knew how desperately Wellington needed the gold. To Cox and Kearsey it was unimaginable that a few thousand gold coins could save Portugal, and Sharpe could not tell them how, because he had not been told. He damned the secrecy. It would mean death for hundreds; but if the gold did not get through it would mean a lost war.
Teresa would be gone, anyway. In a few hours they would part, he to the army, she back to the hills and her own fight. He held her close, smelling her hair, wanting to be with her, but then they stepped apart as footsteps sounded outside and Patrick Harper pushed open the door and peered into the gloom.
'Sir?
'We're here. Did you get it?
'No problem. Harper sounded happy enough. He gestured past Helmut. 'One barrel of powder, sir, compliments of Tom Garrard.
'Did he ask what it was for?
Harper shook his head. 'He said if it was for you, sir, it was all right. He helped the German bring the great keg through the door. 'Bloody heavy, sir.
'Will you need help?
Harper straightened up with a scoffing look. 'An officer carrying a barrel, sir? This is the army! No. We got it here; we'll do the rest.
'You know what to do?
The question was unnecessary. Sharpe looked through the dirty window, across the Plaza, and in the thin light saw that the cathedral doors were still shut. Perhaps the pile of cartridges had been moved. Had Wellington sent a messenger on a fast horse with orders for Cox on the half chance that Sharpe was in Almeida? He forced his mind away from the nagging questions.
'Let's get on with it.
Helmut borrowed Harper's bayonet and chipped at the centre of the barrel, making a hole, widening it till it was the size of a musket muzzle. He grunted his satisfaction. Harper nodded at Sharpe. 'We'll be on our way. He sounded casual. Sharpe made himself grin.
'Go slowly.
He wanted to tell the Sergeant that he did not have to do it, it was Sharpe's dirty-work, but he knew what the Irishman would have said.
Knowles had pleaded, 'There must be another way!
'Tell me.
Now, in the cold silence, Sharpe still tried to find another way. To talk to Cox? Or Kearsey? But only Sharpe knew how desperately Wellington needed the gold. To Cox and Kearsey it was unimaginable that a few thousand gold coins could save Portugal, and Sharpe could not tell them how, because he had not been told. He damned the secrecy. It would mean death for hundreds; but if the gold did not get through it would mean a lost war.
Teresa would be gone, anyway. In a few hours they would part, he to the army, she back to the hills and her own fight. He held her close, smelling her hair, wanting to be with her, but then they stepped apart as footsteps sounded outside and Patrick Harper pushed open the door and peered into the gloom.
'Sir?
'We're here. Did you get it?
'No problem. Harper sounded happy enough. He gestured past Helmut. 'One barrel of powder, sir, compliments of Tom Garrard.
'Did he ask what it was for?
Harper shook his head. 'He said if it was for you, sir, it was all right. He helped the German bring the great keg through the door. 'Bloody heavy, sir.
'Will you need help?
Harper straightened up with a scoffing look. 'An officer carrying a barrel, sir? This is the army! No. We got it here; we'll do the rest.
'You know what to do?
The question was unnecessary. Sharpe looked through the dirty window, across the Plaza, and in the thin light saw that the cathedral doors were still shut. Perhaps the pile of cartridges had been moved. Had Wellington sent a messenger on a fast horse with orders for Cox on the half chance that Sharpe was in Almeida? He forced his mind away from the nagging questions.
'Let's get on with it.
Helmut borrowed Harper's bayonet and chipped at the centre of the barrel, making a hole, widening it till it was the size of a musket muzzle. He grunted his satisfaction. Harper nodded at Sharpe. 'We'll be on our way. He sounded casual. Sharpe made himself grin.
'Go slowly.
He wanted to tell the Sergeant that he did not have to do it, it was Sharpe's dirty-work, but he knew what the Irishman would have said.