JК
Sharpes Siege :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 192 из 223You may therefore consider yourself released from any undertakings of honour made with him.”
Killick, who had already expressed profound disgust at the use of quicklime, now shook his head. “I think I’m the best judge of my own honour, General.”
“You are a civilian,” Pierre Ducos, despite his small size, was endowed with a voice of unusual authority, ”and by your own account, Mr Killick, you have trafficked with the enemy. I presume you do not wish to undergo a long period of questioning at the hands of French authorities?“ Killick said nothing. The other French officers, even Calvet, were made uneasy by the threat, while Ducos, sensing that he had an advantage over the tall, handsome American, smiled. ”If Mr Killick does not offer some satisfactory explanation of his actions on French soil then I will use my authority to seek such an explanation.“
“My explanation…” Killick began.
Ducos interrupted him. “Your explanations are best given with grapeshot at dawn. Do I have your oath, Mr Killick, that you will be there? Or must I investigate you?”
The American’s quick temper flared. “I was captured, you little bastard, because I volunteered to defend your bloody fort.”
“And you lost not a man killed,” Ducos said chillingly, “and you were released within hours. I think those circumstances deserve investigation.”
Killick looked to Calvet, but saw that the French general was powerless to countermand the thin, bespectacled major. The American shrugged. “I cannot be there at dawn.”
“Then I will order your arrest,” Ducos said.
“I can’t be there at dawn, you bastard,” Killick growled, “because the tide won’t serve. I’ve got twenty miles of shallow water to negotiate. Unless you can threaten God into a premature high-tide?” He stared defiance at Ducos, then looked at the map. “One hour after dawn. No sooner.”
“But one hour after dawn,” Ducos was relentless in victory, “you will be moored off the fortress and bombarding the walls with grapeshot?” He had seen a flicker of hope on Killick’s face, and knew the American was thinking that, once on board his ship, Pierre Ducos would be powerless to impose his will. “I want your promise, Mr Killick, your oath.” Ducos had seized a piece of paper and, using the general’s charcoal, scrawled big letters that formed a confession that Killick had unlawfully entered into a treaty with the enemy, and a promise that, as recompense, the Thuella would bombard the fortress until surrender or victory ended the morning’s engagement. He thrust the paper forward.
Killick, who had already expressed profound disgust at the use of quicklime, now shook his head. “I think I’m the best judge of my own honour, General.”
“You are a civilian,” Pierre Ducos, despite his small size, was endowed with a voice of unusual authority, ”and by your own account, Mr Killick, you have trafficked with the enemy. I presume you do not wish to undergo a long period of questioning at the hands of French authorities?“ Killick said nothing. The other French officers, even Calvet, were made uneasy by the threat, while Ducos, sensing that he had an advantage over the tall, handsome American, smiled. ”If Mr Killick does not offer some satisfactory explanation of his actions on French soil then I will use my authority to seek such an explanation.“
“My explanation…” Killick began.
Ducos interrupted him. “Your explanations are best given with grapeshot at dawn. Do I have your oath, Mr Killick, that you will be there? Or must I investigate you?”
The American’s quick temper flared. “I was captured, you little bastard, because I volunteered to defend your bloody fort.”
“And you lost not a man killed,” Ducos said chillingly, “and you were released within hours. I think those circumstances deserve investigation.”
Killick looked to Calvet, but saw that the French general was powerless to countermand the thin, bespectacled major. The American shrugged. “I cannot be there at dawn.”
“Then I will order your arrest,” Ducos said.
“I can’t be there at dawn, you bastard,” Killick growled, “because the tide won’t serve. I’ve got twenty miles of shallow water to negotiate. Unless you can threaten God into a premature high-tide?” He stared defiance at Ducos, then looked at the map. “One hour after dawn. No sooner.”
“But one hour after dawn,” Ducos was relentless in victory, “you will be moored off the fortress and bombarding the walls with grapeshot?” He had seen a flicker of hope on Killick’s face, and knew the American was thinking that, once on board his ship, Pierre Ducos would be powerless to impose his will. “I want your promise, Mr Killick, your oath.” Ducos had seized a piece of paper and, using the general’s charcoal, scrawled big letters that formed a confession that Killick had unlawfully entered into a treaty with the enemy, and a promise that, as recompense, the Thuella would bombard the fortress until surrender or victory ended the morning’s engagement. He thrust the paper forward.