bcornwell.sharpstiger-第39部分

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　'Me；　sir？'　Sharpe　slipped　half　out　of　the　saddle；　gripped　the　pommel　desperately　and　somehow　dragged　himself　upright。　He　could　hear　the　snapping　crack　of　muskets；　and　see　the　small　muzzle　flames　flickering　all　across　the　land　ahead。　It　seemed　to　him　like　a　major　attack；　especially　when　a　British　field　gun　fired　in　the　distance　and　its　muzzle　flame　lit　the　twilight　like　sheet　lightning。
　'Shout　orders　at　them；　Sharpe；'　Gudin　said；　when　the　report　of　the　gun　had　rolled　past　them。　'Confuse　them！'
　'Lawford　would　have　done　better；　sir；'　Sharpe　said。　'He's　got　a　voice　like　an　officer。'
　'Then　you'll　have　to　sound　like　a　sergeant；'　Gudin　said；　'and　if　you　do　it　right；　Sharpe；　I'll　make　you　up　to　corporal。'
　'Thank　you；　sir。'
　Gudin　had　slowed　his　horse　to　a　walk　as　they　neared　the　wood。　It　was　too　dark　to　trot　now　and　there　was　a　danger　they　could　lose　their　way。　To　Sharpe's　north；　where　the　field　gun　had　fired；　the　musketry　was　regular；　suggesting　that　the　British　soldiers　or　sepoys　were　steadily　taking　their　objectives；　but　in　the　wood　in　front；　there　seemed　to　be　nothing　but　confusion。　Muskets　crackled　irregularly；　rockets　streaked　fire　amongst　the　branches　and　smoke　boiled　from　small　brush　fires。　Sharpe　could　hear　men　shouting；　either　in　fear　or　triumph。　'I　wouldn't　mind　a　gun；　sir；'　he　said　to　Gudin。
　'You　don't　need　one。　We're　not　here　to　fight；　just　to　mix　them　up。　That's　why　I　came　back　to　get　you。　Dismount　here。'　The　Colonel　tied　both　horses'　reins　to　an　abandoned　handcart　that　must　have　been　used　to　bring　more　rockets　forward。　The　two　men　were　a　hundred　yards　short　of　the　tope　now　and　Sharpe　could　hear　officers　shouting　orders。　It　was　hard　to　tell　who　was　giving　the　orders；　for　the　Tippoo's　army　used　English　words　of　mand；　but　as　Sharpe　and　Gudin　hurried　closer　to　the　fight　Sharpe　could　tell　that　it　was　Indian　voices　thatshouted　the　mands　to　fire；　to　advance　and　to　kill。　Whatever　British　or　Indian　troops　were　trying　to　capture　the　wood　were　evidently　in　trouble；　and　it　had　been　Gudin's　inspiration　to　snatch　the　first　Englishman　he　could　find　in　the　barracks　and　use　him　to　sow　even　more　confusion　among　the　attackers。　Gudin　drew　a　pistol。　'Sergeant　Rothiere！'　he　called。
　'Man　Colonel！'　The　big　Sergeant；　who　had　first　used　Captain　Romet's　horse　to　reach　the　fight；　materialized　out　of　the　gloom。　He　gave　Sharpe　a　suspicious　glowering　look；　then　cocked　his　musket。
　'Let's　enjoy　ourselves；'　Gudin　said　in　English。
　'Aye；　sir；'　Sharpe　said　and　wondered　what　the　hell　he　should　do　now。　In　the　dark；　he　reckoned；　there　should　be　no　trouble　in　slipping　away　from　the　Colonel　and　Rothiere　and　joining　the　beleaguered　attackers；　but　how　would　that　leave　Lieutenant　Lawford？　The　trick　of　it；　Sharpe　decided；　was　not　to　make　it　look　as　though　he　was　deliberately　trying　to　get　back　to　the　British；　but　rather　to　make　it　seem　as　though　he　was　captured　accidentally。　That　still　might　make　things　very　awkward　for　Lawford；　but　Sharpe　knew　that　his　overriding　duty　was　to　carry　McCandless's　warning　to　General　Harris；　just　as　he　knew　that　he　might　never　get　another　opportunity　as　good　as　this　one　that　Gudin　had　dropped　so　unexpectedly　into　his　lap。
　Gudin　paused　at　the　edge　of　the　tope。　Rocketmen　were　enthusiastically　blasting　their　weapons　through　the　trees　where　the　missiles　were　being　deflected　off　branches　to　tumble　erratically　through　the　leaves。　Muskets　sounded　deep　inside　the　wood。　Wounded　men　lay　at　the　trees'　edge；　and　somewhere　not　far　off　a　dying　man　alternately　screamed　and　panted。　'So　far；'　Gudin　said；　'we　seem　to　be　beating　them。　Let's　go　forward。'
　Sharpe　followed　the　two　Frenchmen。　Off　to　his　right　there　was　a　sudden　blast　of　gunfire　and　the　sound　of　bayonets　clashing；　and　Gudin　swerved　towards　the　sound；　but　the　fightwas　over　before　they　even　reached　it。　The　Tippoo's　men　had　encountered　a　small　group　of　redcoats　and　had　killed　one　and　chased　the　others　deeper　into　the　wood。　Gudin　saw　the　redcoat's　body　in　the　fast…dying　flame　light　of　an　exhausted　rocket　and　knelt　beside　the　man。　The　Colonel　took　out　a　tinderbox；　struck　a　spark；　blew　the　charred　linen　in　the　box　alight；　then　held　the　tiny　flame　down　beside　the　redcoat's　chest。　The　man　was　not　quite　dead；　but　he　was　unconscious；　blood　was　bubbling　slow　in　his　throat　and　his　eyes　were　closed。　'Recognize　the　uniform？'　Gudin　asked　Sharpe。　The　tinderbox's　flickering　glow　revealed　that　the　redcoat's　turnbacks　and　facings　were　scarlet　piped　with　white。
　'Bloody　hell；'　Sharpe　said。　'Excuse　me；　sir；'　he　added；　then　he　gently　moved　Gudin's　hand　up　to　the　dying　man's　face。　Blood　had　poured　out　of　the　man's　mouth　to　soak　his　powdered　hair；　but　Sharpe　recognized　him　all　the　same。　It　was　Jed　Mallinson　who　usually　paraded　in　the　rearmost　rank　of　Sharpe's　file。　'I　know　the　uniform　and　the　man；　sir；'　Sharpe　told　Gudin。　'It's　the　33rd；　my　old　battalion。　West　Riding；　Yorkshire。'
　'Good。'　Gudin　snapped　the　tinderbox　shut；　extinguishing　the　small　flame。　'And　you　don't　mind　confusing　them？'
　'That's　why　I'm　here；　sir；'　Sharpe　said　with　a　suitable　bloodthirstiness。
　'I　think　the　British　army　lost　a　good　man　in　you；　Sharpe；'　Gudin　said；　standing　and　guiding　Sharpe　deeper　into　the　trees。　'If　you　don't　want　to　stay　in　India　you　might　think　of　ing　home　with　me。'
　'To　France；　sir？'
　Gudin　smiled　at　Sharpe's　surprised　tone。　'It　isn't　the　devil's　country；　Sharpe；　indeed　I　suspect　it's　the　most　blessed　place　on　God's　earth；　and　in　the　French　army　a　good　man　can　be　very　easily　raised　to　officer　rank。'
　'Me；　sir？　An　officer？'　Sharpe　laughed。　'Like　making　a　mule　into　a　racehorse。'
　
　'You　underestimate　yourself。'　Gudin　paused。　There　were　feet　trampling　to　the　right；　and　a　sudden　blast　of　musketry　off　to　the　left。　The　musketry　attracted　an　excited　rush　of　the　Tippoo's　infantry　who　blundered　through　the　trees。　Sergeant　Rothiere　bellowed　at　them　in　a　mix　of　French　and　Kanarese；　and　his　sudden　authority　calmed　the　men　who　gathered　around　Colonel　Gudin。　Gudin　smiled　wolfishly。　'Let's　see　if　we　can　mislead　some　of　your　old　rades；　Sharpe。　Shout　at　them　to　e　this　way。'
　'Forward！'　Sharpe　obediently　bellowed　into　the　dark　trees。　'Forward！'　He　paused；　listening　for　an　answer。　'33rd！　To　me！　To　me！'
　No　one　responded。　'Try　a　name；'　Gudin　suggested。
　Sharpe　invented　an　officer's　name。　'Captain　Fellows！　This　way！'　He　called　it　a　dozen　times；　but　there　was　no　response。　'Hakeswill！'　he　finally　shouted。　'Sergeant　Hakeswill！'
　Then；　from　maybe　thirty　paces　away；　the　hated　voice　called　back；　'Who's　that？'　The　Sergeant　sounded　suspicious。
　'e　here；　man！'　Sharpe　snapped。
　Hakeswill　ignored　the　order；　but　me　fact　that　a　man　had　replied　at　all　cheered　Gudin　who　had　quiedy　formed　the　stray　unit　of　the　Tippoo's　infantry　into　a　line　that　waited　to　kill　whoever　came　in　response　to　Sharpe's　hailing。　Chaos　reigned　ahead。　Rockets　banged　into　branches；　musket　flames　flared　in　the　drifting　smoke；　while　bullets　thumped　into　trees　or　crackled　through　the　thick　leaves。　A　bloodthirsty　cheer　sounded　a　long　way　off；　but　whether　it　was　Indian　or　British　troops　who　cheered；　Sharpe　could　not　tell。
　One　thing　was　plain　to　Sharpe。　The　33rd　was　in　trouble。　Poor　Jed　Mallinson　should　never　have　been　abandoned　to　die；　and　that　sad　death；　along　with　the　scattered　sounds　of　firing；　suggested　that　the　Tippoo's　men　had　succeeded　in　splitting　the　attacking　force　and　was　now　picking　it　off　piece　by　piece。　It　was　now　or　never；　Sharpe　reckoned。　He　had　to　get　away　from　Gudin　and　somehow　rejoin　his　battalion。　'Ineed　to　get　closer；　sir；'　he　told　the　Colonel　and；　without　waiting　for　Gudin's　consent；　he　ran　deeper　into　the　trees。　'Sergeant　Hakeswill！'　he　shouted　as　he　ran。　'To　me；　now！　Now！　e　on；　you　miserable　bastard！　Move　your　bloody　self！　e　on！'　He　could　hear　Gudin　following　him；　so　Sharpe　fell　silent　and；　suddenly　deep　in　shadow；　dodged　off　to　his　right。
　'Sharpe！'　Gudin　hissed；　but　Sharpe　was　well　away　from　the　Colonel　now　and　he　reckoned　he　had　done　it　without　looking　like　a　deserter。
　'Sergeant　Hakeswill！'　Sharpe　bellowed；　then　ran　on　again。　There　was　a　danger　that　by　shouting　he　would　keep　Gudin　on　his　heels；　but　it　was　a　greater　danger　to　let　the　Frenchman　think　that　he　was　deliberately　trying　to　rejoin　the　British；　for　then　Lawford　might　suffer；　and　so　Sharpe　ran　the　risk　as　he　worked　his　way　still　farther　into　the　dense　trees。　'Hakeswill！　To　me！　To　me！'　He　pushed　through　thick　foliage；　tripped　over　a　bush；　picked　himself　up　and　ran　on　into　a　clearing。　'Hakeswill！'　he　shouted。
　A　rocket　crashed　into　a　branch　high　above　Sharpe　and　slashed　straight　down　into　the　clearing　ahead　of　him。　Once　on　the　ground　the　missile　circled　furiously　like　a　mad　dog　chasing　its　own　tail　and　the　brilliant　light　of　the　exhaust　lit　the　trees　all　around。　Sharpe　flinched　away　from　the　lash　of　the　fiery　tail　and　almost　ran　straight　into　Sergeant　Hakeswill　who　had　suddenly　appeared　from　the　bushes　to　his　left。
　'Sharpie！'　Hakeswill　shouted。　'You　bastard！'　He　slashed　wildly　at　Sharpe　with　his　bloody　halberd。　Morris；　hearing　Hakeswill's　name　shouted；　had　ordered　the　Sergeant　to　find　whoever　was　summoning　him　and　Hakeswill　had　unwillingly　obeyed。　Now；　suddenly；　Hakeswill　was　alone　with　Sharpe　and　the　Sergeant　slammed　the　spear　forward　again。　'Traitorous　little　bastard！'　Hakeswill　said。
　'For　Christ's　sake；　drop　it！'　Sharpe　shouted；　retreating　before　the　quick　lunges　of　the　spear　head。
　'Running　off　to　the　enemy；　Sharpie？'　Hakeswill　said。　'Ishould　take　you　in；　shouldn't　I？　It'll　be　another　court　martial　and　a　firing　party　this　time。　But　I　won't　risk　that。　I'm　going　to　put　your　gizzards　on　a　skewer；　Sharpie；　and　send　you　back　to　your　maker。　And　wearing　a　frock；　too？'　The　Sergeant　stabbed　again；　and　Sharpe　leapt　back　once　more；　but　then　the　dying　rocket　fizzed　across　the　clearing　and　its　long　bamboo　stick　tangled　Sharpe's　legs。　He　fell　backwards　and　Hakeswill　gave　a　shout　of　triumph　as　he　sprang　towards　him　with　the　halberd　poised　ready　to　lunge　downwards。
　Sharpe　felt　the　rocket's　iron　tube　under　his　right　hand；　gripped　it　and　threw　it　up　at　Hakeswill's　face。　The　rocket's　gunpowder　fuel　was　almost　gone；　but　there　was　just　enough　left　to　spurt　one　last　sudden　flame　that　licked　across　Hakeswill's　blue…eyed　face。　The　Sergeant　screamed；　dropped　the　h