bcornwell.sharpstiger-第58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！


　The　third　jetti　lumbered　at　Sharpe　with　his　spear。　He　advanced　warily；　confused　by　the　ease　with　which　this　foreign　demon　had　downed　his　two　panions。
　Sharpe　smiled　at　the　third　jetti；　shouldered　the　musket；　pulled　back　the　cock；　and　fired。
　The　bullet　drummed　into　ihejettfs　chest；　making　all　his　huge　muscles　shudder　with　the　force　of　its　impact。　The　jetti　slowed；　then　tried　to　charge　again；　but　his　knees　gave　way　and　he　fell　forward　onto　his　face。　He　twitched；　his　hands　scrabbled　for　an　instant；　then　he　was　still。　From　the　ramparts　above　the　soldiers　cheered。
　Sharpe　uncoiled　the　whip　from　his　neck；　picked　up　one　of　the　clumsy　spears；　and　finished　off　the　two　jettis　who　still　lived。　One　had　been　stunned　and　the　other　was　almost　unable　tobreathe；　and　both　now　had　their　throats　cut。　From　the　windows　of　the　low　buildings　around　the　courtyard　men　and　women　stared　at　Sharpe　in　shock。
　'Don't　just　stand　there！'　Sharpe　snarled　at　Lawford。　'Sir；'　he　added　hastily。
　Lawford　and　McCandless　came　through　the　gate；　while　Kunwar　Singh；　as　if　released　from　a　spell；　suddenly　hurried　to　meet　them。　Mary　crossed　to　Sharpe。　'Are　you　all　right？'
　'Never　better；　lass；'　he　said。　In　truth　he　was　shaking　as　he　picked　up　his　red　coat　and　as　Kunwar　Singh's　six　men　stared　at　him　as　though　he　was　a　devil　e　from　nightmare。　Sharpe　wiped　sweat　from　his　eyes。　He　was　oblivious　of　most　of　what　had　just　happened　for　he　had　fought　as　he　had　always　fought；　fast　and　with　a　lethal　skill；　but　it　was　instinct　that　led　him；　not　reason；　and　the　fight　had　left　him　with　a　seething　hate。　He　wanted　to　slake　that　hate　by　killing　more　men；　and　perhaps　Kunwar　Singh's　soldiers　picked　up　that　ferocity；　for　none　of　them　dared　move。
　Lawford　crossed　to　Sharpe。　'We　think　the　assault　is　about　to　e；　Sharpe；'　the　Lieutenant　said；　'and　Colonel　McCandless　is　being　taken　to　a　place　of　safety。　He's　insisted　that　we　go　with　him。　The　fellow　in　the　jewels　isn't　happy　about　that；　but　McCandless　won't　go　without　us。　And　well　done；　by　the　way。'
　Sharpe　glanced　up　into　the　Lieutenant's　eyes。　T'm　not　going　with　him；　sir；　I'm　going　to　fight。'
　'Sharpe！'　Lawford　reproved　him。
　'There's　a　bloody　great　mine；　sir！'　Sharpe　raised　his　voice　angrily。　'Just　waiting　to　kill　our　lads！　I　ain't　letting　that　happen。　You　can　do　what　you　bloody　well　like；　but　I'm　going　to　kill　some　more　of　these　bastards。　You　can　e　with　me；　sir；　or　stay　with　the　Colonel；　I　don't　care。　You；　lad！'　This　was　to　one　of　Kunwar　Singh's　unprehending　soldiers。　'Give　me　some　cartridges。　e　on；　hurry！'　Sharpe　crossed　to　the　man；　pulled　open　his　pouch　and　helped　himself　to　a　handful　ofcartridges　that　he　shoved　into　a　pocket。　Kunwar　Singh　made　no　move　to　stop　him。　Indeed；　everyone　in　the　courtyard　seemed　to　be　stunned　by　the　ferocity　that　had　reduced　three　of　the　Tippoo's　prized　jettis　to　dead　meat；　though　the　officer　manding　the　troops　on　the　inner　wall　did　now　call　down　to　demand　to　know　what　was　happening。　Kunwar　Singh　shouted　back　that　they　were　doing　the　Tippoo's　bidding。
　McCandless　had　overheard　Sharpe　talking　to　Lawford。　'If　I　can　help；　Private　。　。。'　the　Colonel　said。
　'You're　weak；　sir；　begging　your　pardon；　sir。　But　Mister　Lawford　will　help　me。'
　Lawford　said　nothing　for　a　moment；　then　nodded。　'Yes；　of　course　I　will。'
　'What　will　you　do？'　McCandless　asked。　He　spoke　to　Sharpe；　not　Lawford。
　'Blow　the　bloody　mine；　sir；　blow　it　to　kingdom　e。'
　'God　bless　you；　Sharpe。　And　keep　you。'
　'Save　your　prayers　for　the　bloody　enemy；　sir；'　Sharpe　said　curtly。　He　rammed　a　bullet　home；　then　plunged　into　an　alleyway　that　led　southwards。　He　was　loose　in　his　enemy's　rear；　he　was　angry；　and　he　was　ready　to　give　the　bastards　a　taste　of　hell　on　earth。
　
　Major　General　Baird　hauled　a　huge　watch　from　his　fob　pocket；　sprang　open　the　lid；　and　stared　at　the　hands。　One　o'clock。　On　the　fourth　of　May　1799。　A　Saturday。　A　drop　of　sweat　landed　on　the　watch　crystal　and　he　carefully　wiped　it　away　with　a　tassel　of　his　red　sash。　His　mother　had　made　the　sash。　〃You'll　not　let　us　down；　young　Davy；'　she　had　said　sternly；　giving　him　the　strip　of　tasseEed　silk　and　then　saying　no　more　as　he　had　walked　away　to　join　the　army。　The　sash　was　over　twenty　years　old　now；　and　it　was　frayed　and　threadbare；　but　Baird　reckoned　it　would　last　him。　He　would　take　it　back　to　Scotland　one　day。
　It　would　be　good；　he　thought；　to　go　home　and　see　the　newcentury。　Maybe　the　eighteen　hundreds　would　bring　a　different　world；　even　a　better　one；　but　he　doubted　that　the　new　era　would　manage　to　dispense　with　soldiers。　Till　time　ended；　Baird　suspected；　there　would　be　uses　for　a　man　and　his　sword。　He　took　off　his　mildewed　hat　and　wiped　the　sweat　from　his　forehead　with　his　sleeve。　Almost　time。
　He　peered　between　two　sandbags　that　formed　the　forward　lip　of　the　trench。　The　South　Cauvery　rippled　prettily　between　its　flat　boulders；　the　paths　across　its　bed　marked　with　the　little　white　flags　on　their　bamboo　sticks。　In　a　moment　he　would　launch　men　across　those　paths；　then　through　the　gap　in　the　glacis　and　up　that　mound　of　stone；　brick；　mud　and　dust。　He　counted　eleven　cannonballs　stranded　on　the　breach；　looking　for　all　the　world　like　plums　stuck　in　a　pudding。　Three　hundred　yards　of　ground　to　cover；　one　river　to　cross；　and　one　plum　pudding　to　climb。　He　could　see　men　peering　from　between　the　city's　battered　crenellations。　Flags　flew　there。　The　bastards　would　have　guns　mounted　crosswise　to　the　breach　and　perhaps　a　mine　buried　in　the　rubble。　God　preserve　the　Forlorn　Hopes；　he　thought；　though　God　was　not　usually　merciful　in　such　matters。　If　Colonel　Gent　was　right；　and　there　was　a　massive　mine　waiting　for　the　attackers；　then　the　Forlorn　Hopes　would　be　slaughtered；　and　then　the　main　attack　would　have　to　assault　the　breach　and　climb　its　shoulders　to　where　the　enemy　was　massed　on　the　outer　ramparts。　So　be　it。　Too　late　to　worry　now。
　Baird　pushed　through　the　waiting　men　to　find　Sergeant　Graham。　Graham　would　lead　one　of　the　two　Forlorn　Hopes　and；　if　he　lived；　would　be　Lieutenant　Graham　by　nightfall。　The　Sergeant　was　scooping　a　last　ladleful　of　water　from　one　of　the　barrels　that　had　been　placed　in　the　trenches　to　slake　the　thirst　of　the　waiting　men。　'Not　long　now；　Sergeant；'　Baird　said。
　'Whenever　you　say；　sir。'　Graham　poured　the　water　over　his　bare　head；　then　pulled　on　his　shako。　He　would　go　intothe　breach　with　a　musket　in　one　hand　and　a　British　flag　in　the　other。
　'Whenever　the　guns　give　their　farewell　volley；　Sergeant。'　Baird　clicked　open　the　watch　again　and　it　seemed　to　him　the　hands　had　scarcely　moved。　'In　six　minutes；　I　think；　if　this　is　accurate。'　He　held　the　watch　to　his　ear。　'It　usually　loses　a　minute　or　two　every　day。'
　'We're　ready；　sir；'　Graham　said。
　Tm　sure　you're　ready；'　Baird　said；　'but　wait　for　my　order。'
　'Of　course；　sir。'
　Baird　looked　at　the　volunteers；　a　mix　of　British　and　sepoys。　They　grinned　back　at　him。　Rogues；　he　thought；　every　last　man　jack　of　them；　but　what　splendid　rogues；　brave　as　lions。　Baird　felt　a　pang　of　sentimentality　for　these　men；　even　for　the　sepoys。　Like　many　soldiers　the　Scotsman　was　an　emotional　man；　and　he　instinctively　disliked　those　men；　like　Colonel　Wellesley；　who　seemed　passionless。　Passion；　Baird　reckoned；　was　what　would　take　men　across　the　river　and　up　the　breach。　Damn　scientific　soldiering　now。　The　science　of　siege　warfare　had　opened　the　city；　but　only　a　screaming　and　insane　passion　would　take　men　inside。　'God　be　with　you　all；　boys；'　he　said　to　the　Forlorn　Hope　and　they　grinned　again。　Like　every　man　who　would　cross　the　river　today　none　of　them　was　encumbered　with　a　pack。　They　had　all　stripped　off　their　stocks；　too。　They　carried　weapons　and　cartridges　and　nothing　else；　and　if　they　succeeded　they　would　be　rewarded　with　General　Harris's　thanks　and　maybe　a　pittance　of　coins。
　'Is　there　food　in　the　city；　sir？'　one　of　the　volunteers　asked。
　'Plenty；　boys；　plenty。'　Baird；　like　the　rest　of　the　army；　was　on　half…rations。
　'And　some　bibbi；　sir？'　another　man　asked。
　Baird　rolled　his　eyes。　'Running　over　with　it；　lads；　and　all　of　them　just　panting　for　you。　The　place　is　fair　crammed　with　bibbi。　Even　enough　for　us　old　generals。'
　They　laughed。　General　Harris　had　given　strict　orders　thatthe　inhabitants　were　not　to　be　molested；　but　Baird　knew　that　the　terrible　savagery　of　an　assault　on　a　breach　almost　demanded　that　the　men's　appetites　be　satisfied　afterwards。　He　did　not　care。　So　far　as　Major　General　David　Baird　was　concerned　the　boys　could　play　to　their　loins'　content　so　long　as　they　first　won。
　He　edged　his　way　through　the　crush　of　men　to　a　point　midway　between　the　two　Forlorn　Hopes。　The　watch　still　ticked；　but　again　the　minute　hand　seemed　scarcely　to　have　moved　since　he　last　looked　at　the　face。　Baird　closed　the　lid；　pushed　the　watch　into　his　fob；　then　peered　again　at　the　city。　The　undamaged　parts　of　the　wall　glowed　white　in　the　sun。　It　was；　with　its　towers　and　shining　roofs　and　tall　palms；　a　beautiful　place；　yet　it　was　there　that　Baird　had　spent　close　to　four　years　as　a　prisoner　of　the　Tippoo。　He　hated　the　place　as　he　hated　its　ruler。　Revenge　had　been　a　long　time　ing；　but　it　was　here　now。
　He　drew　his　claymore；　a　brutal　Scottish　blade　that　had　none　of　the　finesse　of　more　modern　swords；　yet　Baird；　at　six　feet　four　inches　tall；　had　little　need　of　finesse。　He　would　carry　his　butcher's　blade　into　a　breach　of　blood　to　pay　back　the　Tippoo　for　forty…four　months　of　hell。
　In　the　batteries　behind　Baird　the　gunners　blew　on　their　linstocks　to　keep　the　fire　burning。　General　Harris　pulled　out　his　watch。　Colonel　Arthur　Wellesley；　who　would　lead　the　second　wave　of　attackers　through　the　breach；　adjusted　his　cravat；　and　thought　of　his　responsibilities。　The　bulk　of　his　men　were　from　the　Regiment　de　Meuron；　a　Swiss　battalion　that　had　once　fought　for　the　Dutch；　but　which　had　put　itself　under　the　mand　of　the　East　India　pany　when　the　British　had　captured　Ceylon。　The　men　were　mostly　Swiss；　but　with　a　leavening　from　the　German　states；　and　they　were　a　sober；　steady　battalion　that　Wellesley　planned　to　lead　to　the　Inner　Palace　to　protect　its　contents　and　its　harem　from　the　ravages　of　the　attackers。　Seringapatam　might　fall；　and　theTippop　might　die；　but　the　important　thing　was　to　gain　Mysore's　friendship　and　Wellesley　was　determined　to　make　certain　that　no　unnecessar