JК
Sharpes Gold :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 175 из 179Tell me about the girl?
Sharpe told him as they rode towards Lisbon, crossing the second and third lines that would never be used. He remembered the parting after they had left the river fortress, unchallenged, and the Light Company, clumsily mounted on the Spanish horses, had bounced after Lossow's Germans. One French patrol had come near them, but the Germans had wheeled to meet it, their sabres drawn in one hissing movement, and the French had sheered away. They had stopped beside the Coa and Sharpe had handed Teresa the one thousand gold coins he had promised.
She had smiled at him. 'This will be enough.
'Enough?
'For our needs. We go on fighting.
The wind had brought the stench of burning and death into the hills and Sharpe had looked at her, at the dark, hawklike beauty.
'You can stay with us."
She had smiled. 'No. But you can come back. One day.
He had nodded at the rifle slung on her shoulder. 'Give it to Ramon. I promised.
She looked surprised. 'It's mine!
'No. He had unslung his own rifle, checked the butt-plate, that all the cleaning equipment was there, and handed it across with his ammunition pouch. 'This is yours. With my love. I'll get another one.
She had smiled, shaken her head. 'I'm sorry.
'So am I. We'll meet again.
'I know. She turned her horse and waved.
'Kill a lot of French! he shouted.
'All there are!
And she was gone, galloping with her father and his men, her men, up to the secret paths that would lead them home, to the war of the knife and ambush, and he missed her, missed her.
He smiled at Hogan. 'You heard about Hardy?
'Sad. He has a brother. Did you know?
'No.
Hogan nodded. 'A Naval Lieutenant. Giles Hardy, and just like his brother. Mad as a coot.
'And Josefina?
Hogan smiled, sniffed his snuff, and Sharpe waited for the sneeze. Hogan wiped away the tears. 'She's here. You want to see her?
'Yes.
Hogan laughed. 'She's rather celebrated now." He did not explain.
They rode in the lengthening shadows down the paved highway into Lisbon. It was crowded with carts, carrying building stone, and with the labourers who were making one of the great wonders of the military world, a fortress covering five hundred square miles that would stop the French in the year of 1810 and would never be used again. Sharpe admired Wellington for a clever man, because no one, utterly no one outside Lisbon, seemed to know the lines existed, and the French, their tails up, would come hallooing down the southern road. And stop.
Sharpe told him as they rode towards Lisbon, crossing the second and third lines that would never be used. He remembered the parting after they had left the river fortress, unchallenged, and the Light Company, clumsily mounted on the Spanish horses, had bounced after Lossow's Germans. One French patrol had come near them, but the Germans had wheeled to meet it, their sabres drawn in one hissing movement, and the French had sheered away. They had stopped beside the Coa and Sharpe had handed Teresa the one thousand gold coins he had promised.
She had smiled at him. 'This will be enough.
'Enough?
'For our needs. We go on fighting.
The wind had brought the stench of burning and death into the hills and Sharpe had looked at her, at the dark, hawklike beauty.
'You can stay with us."
She had smiled. 'No. But you can come back. One day.
He had nodded at the rifle slung on her shoulder. 'Give it to Ramon. I promised.
She looked surprised. 'It's mine!
'No. He had unslung his own rifle, checked the butt-plate, that all the cleaning equipment was there, and handed it across with his ammunition pouch. 'This is yours. With my love. I'll get another one.
She had smiled, shaken her head. 'I'm sorry.
'So am I. We'll meet again.
'I know. She turned her horse and waved.
'Kill a lot of French! he shouted.
'All there are!
And she was gone, galloping with her father and his men, her men, up to the secret paths that would lead them home, to the war of the knife and ambush, and he missed her, missed her.
He smiled at Hogan. 'You heard about Hardy?
'Sad. He has a brother. Did you know?
'No.
Hogan nodded. 'A Naval Lieutenant. Giles Hardy, and just like his brother. Mad as a coot.
'And Josefina?
Hogan smiled, sniffed his snuff, and Sharpe waited for the sneeze. Hogan wiped away the tears. 'She's here. You want to see her?
'Yes.
Hogan laughed. 'She's rather celebrated now." He did not explain.
They rode in the lengthening shadows down the paved highway into Lisbon. It was crowded with carts, carrying building stone, and with the labourers who were making one of the great wonders of the military world, a fortress covering five hundred square miles that would stop the French in the year of 1810 and would never be used again. Sharpe admired Wellington for a clever man, because no one, utterly no one outside Lisbon, seemed to know the lines existed, and the French, their tails up, would come hallooing down the southern road. And stop.