JК
Sharpes Gold :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 19 из 179'You apologize?
'Yes, sir. Unreservedly, sir. Terrible disgrace, sir. I utterly apologize, sir, regret my part very much, sir, as I'm sure Lieutenant Ayres does his.
Ayres, startled by a sudden smile from Sharpe, nodded hastily and agreed. 'I do, sir. I do.
Williams whirled on his unfortunate Lieutenant. 'What do you have to regret, Ayres? You mean there's more to this than I thought?
The Provost Marshal sighed and scraped a boot on the floor. 'I think the purpose of this meeting is over, gentlemen, and I have work to do. He looked at Sharpe. 'Thank you, Captain, for your apology. We'll leave you.
As they left, Sharpe could hear Colonel Williams interrogating Ayres as to why he should have any regrets, and Sharpe let a grin show on his face which widened into a broad smile as the door opened once more and Michael Hogan came into the room. The small Irishman shut the door carefully and smiled at Sharpe.
'As graceful an apology as I expected from you. How are you?
They shook hands, pleasure on both their faces. The war, it turned out, was treating Hogan well. An engineer, he had been transferred to Wellington's staff, and promoted. He spoke Portuguese and Spanish, and added to those skills was a common sense that was rare. Sharpe raised his eyebrows at Hogan's elegant, new uniform.
'So what do you do here?
'A bit of this and the other. Hogan beamed at him, paused, then sneezed violently. 'Christ and St Patrick! Bloody Irish Blackguard!
Sharpe looked puzzled and Hogan held out his snuff-box. 'Can't get Scotch Rappee here, only Irish Blackguard. It's like sniffing grapeshot straight up the nostrils.
'Give it up.
Hogan laughed. 'I've tried; I can't. His eyes watered as another sneeze gathered force. 'God in heaven!
'So what do you do?
Hogan wiped a tear from his cheek. 'Not so very much, Richard. I sort of find things out, about the enemy, you understand. And draw maps. Things like that. We call it «intelligence», but it's a fancy word for knowing a bit about the other fellow. And 1 have some duties in Lisbon. He waved a deprecating hand. 'I get by.
Lisbon, where Josefina was. The thought struck Hogan as it came to Sharpe, and the small Irishman smiled and answered the unspoken question. 'Aye, she's well.
Josefina, whom Sharpe had loved so briefly, for whom he had killed, and who had left him for a cavalry officer. He still thought of her, remembered the few nights, but this was no time or place for that kind of memory.
'Yes, sir. Unreservedly, sir. Terrible disgrace, sir. I utterly apologize, sir, regret my part very much, sir, as I'm sure Lieutenant Ayres does his.
Ayres, startled by a sudden smile from Sharpe, nodded hastily and agreed. 'I do, sir. I do.
Williams whirled on his unfortunate Lieutenant. 'What do you have to regret, Ayres? You mean there's more to this than I thought?
The Provost Marshal sighed and scraped a boot on the floor. 'I think the purpose of this meeting is over, gentlemen, and I have work to do. He looked at Sharpe. 'Thank you, Captain, for your apology. We'll leave you.
As they left, Sharpe could hear Colonel Williams interrogating Ayres as to why he should have any regrets, and Sharpe let a grin show on his face which widened into a broad smile as the door opened once more and Michael Hogan came into the room. The small Irishman shut the door carefully and smiled at Sharpe.
'As graceful an apology as I expected from you. How are you?
They shook hands, pleasure on both their faces. The war, it turned out, was treating Hogan well. An engineer, he had been transferred to Wellington's staff, and promoted. He spoke Portuguese and Spanish, and added to those skills was a common sense that was rare. Sharpe raised his eyebrows at Hogan's elegant, new uniform.
'So what do you do here?
'A bit of this and the other. Hogan beamed at him, paused, then sneezed violently. 'Christ and St Patrick! Bloody Irish Blackguard!
Sharpe looked puzzled and Hogan held out his snuff-box. 'Can't get Scotch Rappee here, only Irish Blackguard. It's like sniffing grapeshot straight up the nostrils.
'Give it up.
Hogan laughed. 'I've tried; I can't. His eyes watered as another sneeze gathered force. 'God in heaven!
'So what do you do?
Hogan wiped a tear from his cheek. 'Not so very much, Richard. I sort of find things out, about the enemy, you understand. And draw maps. Things like that. We call it «intelligence», but it's a fancy word for knowing a bit about the other fellow. And 1 have some duties in Lisbon. He waved a deprecating hand. 'I get by.
Lisbon, where Josefina was. The thought struck Hogan as it came to Sharpe, and the small Irishman smiled and answered the unspoken question. 'Aye, she's well.
Josefina, whom Sharpe had loved so briefly, for whom he had killed, and who had left him for a cavalry officer. He still thought of her, remembered the few nights, but this was no time or place for that kind of memory.