bcornwell.sharpescompany-第42部分

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estured　at　a　wooden　crate。　'You'd　better　sit。'
　
　'Thank　you；　sir。'　The　leg　was　shooting　pain　into　his　groin。　He　was　hungry。
　
　Collett　came　in　behind　Sharpe　and　pulled　the　flap　shut。　The　Major　was　short　enough　to　stand　upright　beneath　the　ridgepole。　For　a　few　seconds　there　was　silence　and　it　struck　Sharpe；　suddenly；　that　Windham　was　embarrassed。　He　felt　a　sympathy　for　the　Colonel。　It　was　not　Windham's　fault　that　Rymer　had　purchased　the　mission；　it　was　not　his　choice　to　follow　Lawford；　and　Windham；　in　the　little　Sharpe　knew　of　him；　seemed　a　decent　enough　man。　He　looked　up　at　the　Colonel。　'Sir？'
　
　The　word　broke　the　silence。　Windham　gestured　irritably。　'Last　night；　Sharpe。　A　pity。'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　Whatever　the　Colonel　meant　by　a　pity。　The　dam　not　being　broken？　
　
　Matthews'　death？
　
　'The　General's　disappointed。　Not　with　us。　We　did　our　job。　We　got　the　powder　to　the　dam；　we　blew　it　up；　and　there　wasn't　enough　damn　powder。　It's　the　Engineers　to　blame；　not　us。'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　Sharpe　knew　that　Windham　was　beating　round　a　very　thorny　bush。　He　had　not　brought　Sharpe　into　the　tent　to　tell　him　this。　Collett　gave　a　pointed　cough　and　the　Colonel　cleared　his　throat。
　
　'It　seems　there　was　chaos　at　the　dam；　Sharpe；　is　that　right？'
　
　The　word　must　have　e　from　Captain　Rymer；　Sharpe　thought；　so　he　shrugged。　'Night　attacks　are　prone　to　confusion；　sir。'
　
　'I　know　that；　Sharpe；　I　know　that。　God　damn　it；　man；　I　wasn't　breeched　yesterday！'　The　Rifleman　made　Windham　nervous；　the　Colonel　remembered　his　first　meeting；　back　in　Elvas；　when　he　had　felt　the　same　reluctance　to　ride　straight　at　the　fence。　He　glared　at　Sharpe。　'I　sent　you　to　bring　me　back　news；　nothing　else；　is　that　right？'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　'Instead　of　which　you　usurped　Rymer's　authority；　organized　an　attack；　stirred　up　the　French；　and　had　one　of　my　officers　killed。'
　
　Sharpe　could　sense　his　own　anger　flaring　and　he　fought　it。　He　ignored　the　reference　to　Matthews。　'Stirred　up　the　French；　sir？'
　
　'Damn　it；　man；　you　fired　at　them！'
　
　'Captain　Rymer　told　you　that；　sir？'
　
　'I'm　not　here　to　argue　with　you！　Did　you　or　didn't　you？'
　
　'I　returned　their　fire；　sir。'
　
　Silence。　Rymer　had　obviously　told　a　different　story。　Windham　glanced　at　Collett；　who　shrugged。　Both　men　believed　Sharpe；　but　Rymer's　authority　had　to　be　backed　up。　Windham　changed　tack。　'But　nevertheless　you　disobeyed　my　orders？'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　Silence　again。　Windham　had　not　expected　the　answer；　or　perhaps　he　had　expected　excuses；　and　Sharpe　had　made　a　simple　admission　of　disobedience。　But　to　ask　the　reason　why；　was　to　invite　a　criticism　of　Rymer　that　the　Colonel　did　not　want　to　hear。　He　looked　at　Sharpe。　The　Rifleman　seemed　so　damned　confident。　He　sat　there；　seemingly　unworried；　the　strong；　scarred　face　spoke　of　a　petence　and　trustworthiness　that　disarmed　the　Colonel。　Windham　shook　his　head。　'Damn　it；　Sharpe；　Rymer's　in　an　impossible　position。　He's　trying　to　establish　his　authority　over　a　pany　and　he's　finding　it　difficult　while　you're　on　his　heels。'
　
　Collett　stirred；　perhaps　disapprovingly；　but　Sharpe　nodded　slowly。　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　'The　rifles；　for　instance。'
　
　Sharpe　felt　a　flicker　of　alarm。　'The　rifles；　sir？'
　
　Collett　broke　in；　his　voice　harsh；　'Rymer's　opinion　is　that　they　led　to　our　casualties　last　night。　They're　too　slow　to　load　and　last　night　they　let　us　down。　Muskets　would　have　been　faster；　more　effective。'
　
　Sharpe　nodded。　'True；　but　that　was　only　last　night。'
　
　'And　that's　only　your　opinion。　Rymer　disagrees。　'　Collett　paused。　'And　Rymer　has　the　pany。'
　
　'Which　he　must　run　as　he　sees　fit。'　Windham　took　up　from　Collett。　'Which　means　the　rifles　must　go。'
　
　Sharpe's　voice；　for　the　first　time；　rose。　'We　need　more　rifles；　sir；　not　less。'
　
　'Which　is　what　I　am　talking　about！〃　Windham's　voice　rose　as　well。　'You　cannot　run　the　Light　pany。　One　man　must　do　it！'
　
　Which　was　Rymer。　Sharpe's　anger　subsided。　He　was　being　punished　not　for　his　own　failure；　but　for　Rymer's　and　all　three　men　knew　it。　He　forced　a　rueful　smile。　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　Silence　again。　Sharpe　could　feel　that　there　was　one　more　thing　to　be　said；　one　thing　the　Colonel　was　shying　from；　and　he　had　had　enough。　He　would　make　it　easy；　get　the　damned　interview　over。　'So　what　happens　now；　sir？'
　
　'Happens？　We　go　on；　Sharpe；　we　go　on！'　Windham　was　avoiding　the　answer；　but　then　he　plunged　in。　'Major　Hogan　talked　to　us。　He　was　upset。'　The　Colonel　paused。　He　had　plunged　in　at　the　wrong　place；　but　Sharpe　could　guess　at　what　had　happened。　Windham　wanted　rid　of　Sharpe；　at　least　for　the　moment；　and　Hogan　had　engineered　an　answer　that　Windham　was　hesitant　about　mentioning。
　
　'Yes；　sir？'
　
　'He'd　like　your　assistance；　Sharpe。　For　a　few　days；　anyway。　The　Engineers　are　short…handed；　always　are；　damn　them；　and　he　asked　for　your　help。　I　said　yes。'
　
　'So　I'm　to　leave　the　Battalion；　sir？'
　
　'For　a　few　days；　Sharpe；　for　a　few　days。'
　
　Collett　stirred　by　the　tent　pole。　'Damn　it；　Sharpe；　they'll　be　handing　out　Captaincies　like　pound　notes　on　election　day　soon。　'
　
　Sharpe　nodded。　'Yes；　sir。'　Collett　had　made　the　point。　Sharpe　was　an　embarrassment；　not　just　to　Rymer；　but　to　all　the　Captains　who　saw　him　sniffing　at　their　heels。　If　he　could　leave　the　Battalion　now；　go　to　Hogan；　then　there　would　be　no　difficulty　in　bringing　him　back；　after　the　assault；　into　a　Captaincy。　And　the　assault　would　be　soon。　Wellington　was　not　patient　in　a　siege；　the　fine　weather　was　bringing　the　possibility　of　a　French　counter…move；　and　Sharpe　sensed　that　the　infantry　would　be　hurled　against　the　city　very　soon。　Too　soon；　probably。　Collett　was　right；　there　would　be　vacancies；　too　many　vacancies；　made　by　the　French　guns　in　Badajoz。
　
　Windham　seemed　relieved　by　Sharpe's　evident　acceptance。　'That's　it；　then；　Sharpe。　Good　luck；　good　hunting！'　He　barked　an　embarrassed　laugh。　'We'll　see　you　back！'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　But　not；　Sharpe　thought；　in　the　way　Windham　planned。　The　Rifleman；　as　he　limped　from　the　tent；　did　not　object　to　the　Colonel's　solution；　or　rather　Hogan's　solution；　but　he　was　damned　if　he　would　be　nothing　more　than　a　pawn　to　be　pushed　round　a　board　and　sacrificed。　He　had　lost　his　pany；　and　now　he　was　pushed　out　of　the　Battalion；　and　he　felt　an　anger　inside　him。　He　was　superfluous。　Then　damn　them　all。　He　would　make　the　Forlorn　Hope。　He　would　live　and　they　would　take　him　back；　not　as　a　convenient　replacement　for　a　dead　Captain；　but　as　a　soldier　they　could　not　ignore。　He　would　fight　back！　God　damn　them；　he　would　fight　back；　and　he　knew　where　he　was　going　to　start。　He　heard　a　cackle　e　from　the　Battalion's　supply　dump。　Hakeswill！　Bloody　Hakeswill　who　had　emptied　the　seven…barreled　gun　at　him　in　the　darkness。　Sharpe　turned　towards　the　sound；　winced　as　the　pain　seared　his　leg；　and　marched　towards　the　enemy。
　
　CHAPTER　20
　
　Hakeswill　cackled。　'You　bloody　fairies！　You're　not　bloody　soldiers。　Stand　still！'
　
　The　twelve　Riflemen　stood　still。　Each　would　have　gladly　killed　the　Sergeant；　but　not　here；　not　in　the　supply　dump　that　was　open　to　the　gaze　of　the　whole　camp。　The　murder　would　have　to　be　done　at　night；　in　secret；　but　somehow　Hakeswill　seemed　always　to　be　awake；　or　alert　to　the　smallest　sound。　Perhaps　he　was　right；　he　could　not　be　killed。
　
　Hakeswill　walked　slowly　down　the　rank。　Each　man　was　stripped　to　his　shirt；　the　green　jackets　lying　on　the　ground　in　front　of　them。　He　stopped　by　Hagman；　the　old　poacher；　and　pushed　at　the　jacket　with　his　foot。　'What's　this；　then？'　His　toe　was　pointing　at　the　black　stripe　sewn　on　the　sleeve。
　
　'Senior　Rifleman's　badge；　Sergeant。'
　
　'Senior　Rifleman's　badge；　Sergeant。　'　Hakeswill　imitated　Hagman。　The　yellow　face　twitched。　'Bloody　decrepit；　you　are！〃　He　pushed　the　sleeve　into　the　mud。　'Senior　bloody　Rifleman！　From　now　on　you're　a　bloody　soldier。'　He　cackled；　letting　his　fetid　breath　wash　over　Hagman's　face。　The　Rifleman　did　not　move　or　react；　to　do　so　was　to　invite　punishment。　Hakeswill　twitched　and　moved　on。　He　was　feeling　pleased　with　himself。　The　Riflemen　had　annoyed　him　because　they　seemed　to　him　to　form　an　elite　group；　a　close…knit　group；　and　he　had　wanted　to　smash　them。　He　had　suggested　to