bcornwell.sharpstiger-第16部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


。　Sharpe　was　doing　his　best　to　hide　it；　but　it　was　plainly　there　and　so　it　should　be；　for　only　a　fool　did　not　fear　two　thousand　lashes　and　only　a　lucky　man　came　away　alive。　No　man　had　ever　actually　walked　away　from　such　a　punishment；　but　a　handful　had　recovered　after　a　month　in　the　sick　tent。　'Your　Mary's　all　right；'　Green　told　Sharpe。
　Sharpe　gave　a　sullen　grimace。　'You　know　what　Hakeswill　told　me？　That　he　was　going　to　sell　her　as　a　whore。'
　Green　frowned。　'He　won't；　lad。　He　won't。'
　'And　how　will　you　stop　him？'　Sharpe　asked　bitterly。
　'She's　being　looked　after　now；'　Green　reassured　him。　'The　lads　are　making　sure　of　that；　and　the　women　are　all　protecting　her。''But　for　how　long？'　Sharpe　asked。　He　drank　more　of　the　rum　which　seemed　to　be　having　no　effect　that　he　could　sense。　He　momentarily　closed　his　eyes。　He　knew　he　had　been　given　an　effective　death　sentence；　but　there　was　always　hope。　Some　men　had　survived。　Their　ribs　might　have　been　bared　to　the　sun　and　their　skin　and　flesh　be　hanging　from　their　backs　in　bloody　ribbons；　yet　they　had　lived；　but　how　was　he　to　look　after　Mary　when　he　was　bandaged　in　a　bed？　If　he　was　even　lucky　enough　to　reach　a　sick　bed　instead　of　a　grave。　He　felt　tears　pricking　at　his　eyes；　not　for　the　punishment　he　faced；　but　for　Mary。　'How　long　can　they　protect　her？'　he　asked　gruffly；　cursing　himself　for　being　so　near　to　weeping。
　'I　tell　you　she'll　be　all　right；'　Green　insisted。
　'You　don't　know　Hakeswill；'　Sharpe　said。
　'Oh；　but　I　do；　lad；　I　do；'　Green　said　feelingly；　then　paused。　For　a　second　or　two　he　looked　embarrassed；　then　glanced　up　at　Sharpe。　'The　bastard　can't　touch　her　if　she's　married。　Married　proper；　I　mean；　with　the　Colonel's　blessing。'
　'That's　what　I　thought。'
　Green　drew　on　the　pipe。　'If　the　worst　does　happen；　Sharpie　。　。。'　he　said；　then　stopped　in　embarrassment　again。
　'Aye？'　Sharpe　prompted　him。
　'Not　that　it　will；　of　course；'　Green　said　hurriedly。　'Billy　Nixon　survived　a　couple　of　thousand　tickles；　but　you　probably　don't　remember　him；　do　you？　Little　fellow；　with　a　wall　eye。　He　survived　all　right。　He　was　never　quite　the　same　afterwards；　of　course；　but　you're　a　tough　lad；　Sharpie。　Tougher　than　Billy。'
　'But　if　the　worst　does　happen？'　Sharpe　reminded　the　Sergeant。
　'Well；'　Green　said；　colouring；　but　then　at　last　he　summoned　the　courage　to　say　what　he　had　e　to　say。　'I　mean　if　it　don't　offend　you；　lad；　and　only　if　the　worst　does　happen；　which　of　course　it　won't；　and　I　pray　it　won't；　but　if　it　does　then　I　thought　I　might　ask　for　Mrs　Bickerstaff's　hand　myself；　if　you　follow　my　meaning。'Sharpe　almost　laughed；　but　then　the　thought　of　two　thousand　lashes　choked　off　even　the　beginnings　of　a　smile。　Two　thousand！　He　had　seen　men　with　backs　looking　like　offal　after　just　a　hundred　lashes　and　how　the　hell　was　he　to　survive　with　another　nineteen　hundred　strokes　on　top　of　that？　Such　survival　really　depended　on　the　battalion　surgeon。　If　Mister　Micklewhite　thought　Sharpe　was　dying　after　five　or　six　hundred　lashes　he　might　stop　the　punishment　to　give　his　back　time　to　heal　before　the　rest　of　the　lashes　were　given；　but　Micklewhite　was　not　known　for　stopping　whippings。　The　rumour　in　the　battalion　was　that　so　long　as　the　man　did　not　scream　like　a　baby　and　thus　disturb　the　more　squeamish　of　the　officers；　the　surgeon　would　keep　the　blows　ing；　even　if　they　were　falling　onto　a　dead　man's　spine。　That　was　the　rumour；　and　Sharpe　could　only　hope　it　was　not　true。
　'Did　you　hear　me；　Sharpie？'　Sergeant　Green　interrupted　Sharpe's　gloomy　thoughts。
　'I　heard　you；　Sergeant；'　Sharpe　said。
　'So　would　you　mind？　If　I　asked　her？'
　'Have　you　asked　her　already？'　Sharpe　said　accusingly。
　'No！'　Green　said　hastily。　'Wouldn't　be　right！　Not　while　you're　still；　well；　you　know。'
　'Alive；'　Sharpe　said　bitterly。
　'It's　only　if　the　worst　happens。'　Green　tried　to　sound　optimistic。　'Which　it　won't。'
　'You　won't　need　my　permission　when　I'm　dead；　Sergeant。'
　'No；　but　if　I　can　tell　Mary　you　wanted　her　to　accept　me；　then　it'd　help。　Don't　you　see　that？　I'll　be　a　good　man　to　her；　Sharpie。　I　was　married　before；　I　was；　only　she　died　on　me；　but　she　never　plained　about　me。　No　more　than　any　woman　ever　plains；　anyhow。'
　'Hakeswill　might　stop　you　marrying　her。'
　Green　nodded。　'Aye；　he　might；　but　I　can't　see　how。　Not　if　we　tie　the　knot　quick。　I'll　ask　Major　Shee；　and　he's　alwaysfair　with　me。　Ask　him　tonight；　see？　But　only　if　the　worst　happens。'
　'But　you　need　a　chaplain；'　Sharpe　warned　the　Sergeant。　The　33rd's　own　chaplain　had　mitted　suicide　on　the　voyage　from　Calcutta　to　Madras　and　no　marriage　in　the　army　was　considered　official　unless　it　had　the　regimental　mander's　permission　and　the　blessing　of　a　chaplain。
　'The　lads　in　the　Old　Dozen　tell　me　they've　got　a　God…walloper；'　Green　said；　gesturing　at　the　soldiers　guarding　Sharpe；　'and　he　can　do　the　splicing　tomorrow。　I'll　probably　have　to　slip　the　bugger　a　shilling；　but　Mary's　worth　a　bob。'
　Sharpe　shrugged。　'Ask　her；　Sergeant；'　he　said；　'ask　her。'　What　else　could　he　say？　And　if　Mary　was　properly　married　to　Sergeant　Green　then　she　would　be　protected　by　the　army's　regulations。　'But　see　what　happens　to　me　first；'　Sharpe　added。
　'Of　course　I　will；　Sharpie。　Hope　for　the　best；　eh？　Never　say　die。'
　Sharpe　drained　the　canteen。　'There's　a　couple　of　things　in　my　pack；　Sergeant。　A　good　pistol　I　took　off　an　Indian　officer　the　other　day　and　a　few　coins。　You'll　give　them　to　Mary？'
　'Of　course　I　will；'　Green　said；　carefully　hiding　the　fact　that　Hakeswill　had　already　plundered　Sharpe's　pack。　'She'll　be　all　right；　Sharpie。　Promise　you；　lad。'
　'And　some　dark　night；　Sergeant；　give　bloody　Hakeswill　a　kicking　for　me。'
　Green　nodded。　'Be　a　pleasure；　Sharpie。　Be　a　pleasure。'　He　knocked　the　ashes　of　his　pipe　against　the　ammunition　boxes；　then　stood。　'I'll　bring　you　some　more　rum；　lad。　The　more　the　better。'
　The　preparations　for　Sharpe's　flogging　had　all　been　made。　Not　that　they　were　many；　but　it　took　a　few　moments　to　make　sure　everything　was　to　the　Sergeant　Major's　satisfaction。　A　tripod　had　been　constructed　out　of　three　sergeant's　halberds；　their　spear　points　uppermost　and　lashed　together　so　that　thewhole　thing　stood　two　feet　higher　than　a　tall　man。　The　three　halberd　butts　were　sunk　into　the　dry　soil；　then　a　fourth　halberd　was　firmly　lashed　crosswise　on　one　face　of　the　tripod　at　the　height　of　a　man's　armpits。
　Sergeant　Hakeswill　personally　selected　two　of　the　33rd's　drummer　boys。　The　drummer　boys　always　administered　the　floggings；　a　small　element　of　mercy　in　a　bestial　punishment；　but　Hakeswill　made　certain　that　the　two　biggest　and　strongest　boys　were　given　the　task　and　then　he　collected　the　two　whips　from　the　Sergeant　Major　and　made　the　boys　practise　on　a　tree　trunk。　'Put　your　body　into　it；　lads；'　he　told　them；　'and　keep　the　arm　moving　fast　after　the　whip's　landed。　Like　this。'　He　took　one　of　the　whips　and　slashed　it　across　the　bark；　then　showed　them　how　to　keep　the　lash　sliding　across　the　target　by　following　the　stroke　through。　'I　did　it　often　enough　when　I　was　a　drummer；'　he　told　them；　'and　I　always　did　a　good　job。　Best　flogger　in　the　battalion；　I　was。　Second　to　none。'　Once　he　was　sure　their　technique　was　sufficient　for　the　task　he　warned　them　not　to　tire　too　quickly；　and　then；　with　a　pocket　knife；　he　nicked　the　edges　of　the　leather　lashes　so　that　their　abrasions　would　tear　at　the　exposed　flesh　as　they　were　dragged　across　Sharpe's　back。　'Do　it　well；　lads；'　he　promised　them；　'and　there's　one　of　these　for　each　of　you。'　He　showed　them　one　of　the　Tippoo's　gold　coins　which　had　been　part　of　the　battle's　loot。　'I　don't　want　this　bastard　walking　again；'　he　told　them。　'Nor　do　you　neither；　for　if　Sharpie　ever　finds　his　feet　he'll　give　you　two　a　rare　kicking；　so　make　sure　you　finish　the　bastard　off　proper。　Whip　him　bloody　then　put　him　underground；　like　it　says　in　the　scriptures。'
　Hakeswill　coiled　the　two　whips　and　hung　them　on　the　halberd　that　was　mounted　crosswise　on　the　tripod；　then　went　to　find　the　surgeon。　Mister　Micklewhite　was　in　his　tent　where　he　was　trying　to　tie　his　white　silk　stock　in　preparation　for　the　punishment　parade。　He　grunted　when　he　saw　Hakeswill。　'You　don't　need　more　mercury；　do　you？'　he　snarled。'No；　sir。　Cured；　sir。　Thanks　to　your　worship's　skill；　sir。　Clean　as　a　whistle　I　am；　sir。'
　Micklewhite　swore　as　the　knot　in　the　damned　stock　loosened。　He　did　not　like　Hakeswill；　but　like　everyone　else　in　the　regiment　he　feared　him。　There　was　a　wildness　in　the　back　of　Hakeswill's　childlike　eyes　that　spoke　of　terrible　mischief；　and；　though　the　Sergeant　was　always　punctilious　in　his　dealings　with　officers；　Micklewhite　still　felt　obscurely　threatened。　'So　what　do　you　want；　Sergeant？'
　'Major　Shee　asked　me　to　say　a　word；　sir。'
　'Couldn't　speak　to　me　himself？'
　'You　know　the　Major；　sir。　No　doubt　he's　thirsty。　A　hot　day。'　Hakeswill's　face　quivered　in　a　series　of　tremors。　'It's　about　the　prisoner；　sir。'
　'What　about　him？'
　'Troublemaker；　sir。　Known　for　it。　A　thief；　a　liar　and　a　cheat。'
　'So　he's　a　redcoat。　So？'
　'So　Major　Shee　ain't　keen　to　see　him　back　among　the　living；　sir；　if　you　follow　my　meaning。　Is　this　what　I　owe　you　for　the　mercury；　sir？'　Hakeswill　held　up　a　gold　coin；　a　haideri；　which　was　worth　around　two　shillings　and　sixpence。　The　coin　was　certainly　not　payment　for　the　cure　of　his　pox；　for　that　cost　had　already　been　deducted　from　the　Sergeant's　pay；　so　Micklewhite　knew　it　was　a　bribe。　Not　a　great　bribe；　but　half　a　crown　could　still　go　a　long　way。　Micklewhite　glanced　at　it；　then　nodded。　'Put　it　on　the　table；　Sergeant。'
　'Thank　you；　sir。'
　Micklewhite　tugged　the　silk　stock　tight；　then　waved　Hakes…will　off。　He　pulled　on　his　coat　and　pocketed　the　gold　coin。　The　bribe　had　not　been　necessary；　for　Micklewhite's　opposition　to　the　coddling　of　flogging　victims　was　well　enough　known　in　the　battalion。　Micklewhite　hated　caring　for　men　who　had　been　flogged；　for　in　his　experience　they　almost　always　died；　and　if　he　did　stop　a　punishment　then　the　recovering　victim　only　cluttered　up　his　sick　cots。　And　if；　by　some　miracle；　theman　was　restored　to　health；　it　was　only　so　he　could　be　strapped　to　the　triangle　to　be　given　the　rest　of　his　punishment　and　that　second　dose　almost　always　proved　fatal　and　so；　all　things　considered；　it　was　more　prudent　to　let　a　man　die　at　the　first　floggi