Sharpes Gold   ::   Корнуэлл Бернард

Patrick Harper, the seven-barrelled gun hitched high on his shoulder, fell into step with Sharpe once more. 'So we're going back?

Sharpe nodded. 'Not that anyone else needs to know. How did you guess?

Harper laughed. He looked shrewdly at Sharpe, as if gauging the wisdom of his answer, but he seemed to think it safe. 'Because you want the bastard's woman.

Sharpe smiled. 'And the gold, Patrick. Don't forget the gold."

They reached the Agueda at dusk, when gnats gathered in clouds over the slow northward flow of the river. Sharpe was tempted to bivouac on the eastern bank, but knew that such an action would arouse the Partisans' suspicions, so the Light Company waded the river and went half a mile into the trees that fringed the western hills. The escort did not leave but stood on the far bank watching them, and for a moment Sharpe wondered if the Spaniards suspected that the British soldiers would try to return to Casatejada in the night. He turned to a shivering Lieutenant Knowles. 'Light a fire.

'A fire? Knowles looked astonished. 'But the French —

'I know. Light it. A big one.

The men were enthusiastic. Those who had the wicked saw-backed bayonets attacked cork-oak branches, others gathered kindling, and within minutes the blue wood-smoke rose like a wavering signal in the evening sky. Patrick Harper, standing in dripping shirt-tails and holding his sodden trousers to the fire, cocked an inquisitive look towards his Captain as if suggesting that the blaze was dangerous. It was deliberately so, because seeing it would further convince the Partisans of the ineptness of the British infantry. Any man who lit a fire in countryside patrolled by the enemy could not expect to live long.

Whether prompted by the sight of the fire or by the lateness of the hour, Jose decided to leave, and Sharpe, crouching in the shadows at the tree-line, watched as the horsemen wheeled and spurred their horses back to the east. The Company was alone.

'Lieutenant!

Knowles came from the fire. 'Sir.

'We're going back. Tonight. He watched Knowles to see if there was any reaction, but the north countryman nodded as if the news was not unexpected. Sharpe was obscurely disappointed. 'We won't take the wounded. Sergeant Read can take them on to Almeida. Give him three men to help and tell him to find a convoy going back over the Coa. Understand?

'Yes, sir.

'And we'll split up tonight. I'll go ahead with the Riflemen; you follow. You'll find us in the graveyard at Casatejada.

Knowles scratched his head.