bcornwell.sharpstiger-第10节

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under　cannonballs　that　would　be　needed　to　blast　a　hole　through　the　walls　of　Seringapatam；　while　yet　others　were　bullocks　that　hauled　the　wagons　and　guns；　and　the　heaviest　guns；　the　big　siege　pieces；　needed　sixty　bullocks　apiece。　There　were　more　than　two　hundred　thousand　cattle　with　the　army；　but　all　were　now　scrawny　for　the　Tippoo's　cavalry　was　stripping　the　land　of　fodder　as　the　British　and　Hyderabad　armies　advanced。
　The　mon　soldiers　had　no　tents。　They　would　sleep　on　the　ground　close　to　their　fires；　but　first　they　ate　and　this　night　the　feeding　was　good；　at　least　for　the　men　of　the　King's　33rd　who　had　coins　taken　from　the　enemy　dead　to　spend　with　the　bhityarries；　the　merchant　clans　that　travelled　with　the　army　and　had　their　own　private　guards　to　protect　their　goods。　The　bhinjarries　all　sold　chickens；　rice；　flour；　beans　and；　best　of　all；the　throat…burning　skins　of　arrack　which　could　make　a　man　drunk　even　faster　than　rum。　Some　of　the　bhinjarms　also　hired　out　whores　and　the　33rd　gave　those　men　good　business　that　night。
　Captain　Morris　expected　to　visit　the　famous　green　tents　of　Naig；　the　bhinjanie　whose　stock　in　trade　was　the　most　expensive　whores　of　Madras；　but　for　now　he　was　stuck　in　his　own　tent　where；　under　the　feeble　light　of　a　candle　that　flickered　on　his　table；　he　disposed　of　the　pany's　business。　Or　rather　Sergeant　Hakeswill　disposed　of　it　while　Morris；　his　coat　unbuttoned　and　silk　stock　loosened；　sprawled　in　a　camp　chair。　Sweat　dripped　down　his　face。　There　was　a　small　wind；　but　the　muslin　screen　hanging　at　the　entrance　to　the　tent　took　away　its　cooling　effects；　and　if　the　screen　was　discarded　the　tent　would　fill　with　savagely　huge　moths。　Morris　hated　moths；　hated　the　heat；　hated　India。　'Guard　rosters；　sir；'　Hakeswill　said；　offering　the　papers。
　'Anything　I　should　know？'
　'Not　a　thing；　sir。　Just　like　last　week's；　sir。　Ensign　Hicks　made　up　the　roster；　sir。　A　good　man；　sir；　Ensign　Hicks。　Knows　his　place。'
　'You　mean　he　does　what　you　tell　him　to　do？'　Morris　asked　drily。
　'Learning　his　trade；　sir；　learning　his　trade；　just　like　a　good　little　ensign　should。　Unlike　some　as　I　could　mention。'
　Morris　ignored　the　sly　reference　to　Fitzgerald　and　instead　dipped　his　quill　in　ink　and　scrawled　his　name　at　the　foot　of　the　rosters。　'I　assume　Ensign　Fitzgerald　and　Sergeant　Green　have　been　assigned　all　the　night　duty？'　he　asked。
　'They　needs　the　practice；　sir。'
　'And　you　need　your　sleep；　Sergeant？'
　'Punishment　book；　sir；'　Hakeswill　said；　offering　the　leather…bound　ledger　and　taking　back　the　guard　roster　without　acknowledging　Morris's　last　ment。
　Morris　leafed　through　the　book。　'No　floggings　this　week？''Will　be　soon；　sir；　will　be　soon。'
　'Private　Sharpe　escaped　you　today；　eh？'　Morris　laughed。　'Losing　your　touch；　Obadiah。'　There　was　no　friendliness　in　his　use　of　the　Christian　name；　just　scorn；　but　Sergeant　Hakeswill　took　no　offence。　Officers　were　officers；　at　least　those　above　ensigns　were　proper　officers　in　Hakeswill's　opinion；　and　such　gentlemen　had　every　right　to　be　scornful　of　lesser　ranks。
　'I　ain't　losing　nothing；　sir；'　Hakeswill　answered　equably。　'If　the　rat　don't　die　first　shake；　sir；　then　you　puts　the　dog　in　again。　That's　how　it's　done；　sir。　Says　so　in　the　scriptures。　Sick　report；　sir。　Nothing　new；　except　that　Sears　has　the　fever；　so　he　won't　be　with　us　long；　but　he　won't　be　no　loss；　sir。　No　good　to　man　or　beast；　Private　Sears。　Better　off　dead；　he　is。'
　'Are　we　done？'　Morris　asked　when　he　had　signed　the　sick　report；　but　then　a　tactful　cough　sounded　at　the　tent's　opening　and　Lieutenant　Lawford　ducked　under　the　flap　and　pushed　through　the　muslin　screen。
　'Busy；　Charles？'　Lawford　asked　Morris。
　'Always　pleased　to　see　you；　William；'　Morris　said　sarcastically；　'but　I　was　about　to　go　for　a　stroll。'
　'There's　a　soldier　to　see　you；'　Lawford　explained。　'Man's　got　a　request；　sir。'
　Morris　sighed　as　though　he　was　too　busy　to　be　bothered　with　such　trifles；　but　then　he　shrugged　and　waved　a　hand　as　if　to　suggest　he　was　making　a　great　and　generous　gesture　by　giving　the　man　a　moment　of　his　precious　time。　'Who？'　he　asked。
　'Private　Sharpe；　sir。'
　'Troublemaker；　sir；'　Hakeswill　put　in。
　'He's　a　good　man；'　Lawford　insisted　hotly；　but　then　decided　his　small　experience　of　the　army　hardly　qualified　him　to　make　such　judgements　and　so；　diffidendy；　he　added　that　it　was　only　his　opinion。　'But　he　seems　like　a　good　man；　sir；'　he　finished。
　'Let　him　in；'　Morris　said。　He　sipped　from　a　tin　mug　of　arrack　while　Sharpe　negotiated　the　muslin　screen　and　thenstood　to　attention　beneath　the　ridge　pole。　'Hat　off；　boy！'　Hakeswill　snapped。　'Don't　you　know　to　take　your　hat　off　in　the　presence　of　an　officer？'
　Sharpe　snatched　off　his　shako。
　'Well？'　Morris　asked。
　For　a　second　it　seemed　that　Sharpe　did　not　know　what　to　say；　but　then　he　cleared　his　diroat　and；　staring　at　the　tent　wall　a　few　inches　above　Captain　Morris's　head；　he　at　last　found　his　voice。　'Permission　to　marry；　sir。'
　Morris　grinned。　'Marry！　Found　yourself　a　bibbi；　have　you？'　He　sipped　more　arrack；　then　looked　at　Hakeswill。　'How　many　wives　are　on　the　pany　strengdi　now；　Sergeant？'
　'Full　plement；　sir！　No　room　for　more；　sir！　Full　up；　sir。　Not　a　vacancy　to　be　had。　Shall　I　dismiss　Private　Sharpe；　sir？'
　'This　girl's　on　the　plement；'　Lieutenant　Lawford　intervened。　'She's　Sergeant　Bickerstaff's　widow。'
　Morris　stared　up　at　Sharpe。　'Bickerstaff；'　he　said　vaguely　as　though　the　name　was　strange　to　him。　'Bickerstaff。　Fellow　who　died　of　a　fever　on　the　march；　is　that　right？'
　'Yes；　sir；'　Hakeswill　answered。
　'Didn't　know　the　man　was　even　married；'　Morris　said。　'Official　wife；　was　she？'
　'Very　official；　sir；'　Hakeswill　answered。　'On　the　pany　strength；　sir。　Colonel's　signature　on　the　certificate；　sir。　Proper　married　before　God　and　the　army；　sir。'
　Morris　sniffed　and　looked　up　at　Sharpe　again。　'Why　on　earth　do　you　want　to　marry；　Sharpe？'
　Sharpe　looked　embarrassed。　'Just　do；　sir；'　he　said　lamely。
　'Can't　say　I　disapprove　of　marriage；'　Morris　said。　'Steadies　a　man　does　marriage；　but　a　fellow　like　you；　Sharpe；　can　do　better　than　a　soldier's　widow；　can't　you？　Dreadful　creatures；　soldiers'　widows！　Used　goods；　Private。　Fat　and　greasy；　like　lumps　of　lard　wrapped　up　in　linen。　Get　yourself　a　sweet　litde　bibbi；　man；　something　that　ain't　yet　run　to　seed。〃'Very　good　advice；　sir；'　Hakeswill　said；　his　face　twitching。　'Words　of　wisdom；　sir。　Shall　I　dismiss　him；　sir？'
　'Mary　Bickerstaff　is　a　good　woman；　sir；'　Lieutenant　Lawford　said。　The　Lieutenant；　whom　Sharpe　had　first　approached　with　his　request；　was　eager　to　do　his　best。　'Sharpe　could　do　a　lot　worse　than　marry　Mary　Bickerstaff；　sir。'
　Morris　cut　a　cigar　and　lit　it　from　the　guttering　candle　that　burned　on　his　camp　table。　'White；　is　she？'　he　asked　negligently。
　'Half　bibbi　and　half　Christian；　sir；'　Hakeswill　said；　'but　she　had　a　good　man　for　her　husband。'　He　sniffed；　pretending　that　he　was　suddenly　overe　with　emotion。　'And　Jem　Bickerstaff　ain't　this　month　in　his　grave；　sir。　Too　soon　for　the　trollop　to　marry　again。　It　ain't　right；　sir。　Says　so　in　the　scriptures。'
　Morris　offered　Hakeswill　a　cynical　glance。　'Don't　be　absurd；　Sergeant。　Most　army　widows　marry　the　next　day！　The　ranks　are　hardly　high　society；　you　know。'
　'But　Jem　Bickerstaff　was　a　friend　of　mine；　sir；'　Hakeswill　said；　sniffing　again　and　even　cuffing　at　an　invisible　tear。　'Friend　of　mine；　sir；'　he　repeated　more　hoarsely；　'and　on　his　dying　bed；　sir；　he　begged　me　to　look　after　his　little　wife；　sir。　I　know　she　ain't　through　and　through　white；　he　told　me；　but　she　deserves　to　be　looked　after。　His　very　dying　words；　sir。'
　'He　bloody　hated　you！'　Sharpe　could　not　resist　the　words。
　'Quiet　in　front　of　an　officer！'　Hakeswill　shouted。　'Speak　when　you're　spoken　to；　boy；　and　otherwise　keep　your　filthy　mouth　buttoned　like　God　wanted　it。'
　Morris　frowned　as　though　Hakeswill's　loud　voice　was　giving　him　a　headache。　Then　he　looked　up　at　Sharpe。　'I'll　talk　to　Major　Shee　about　it；　Sharpe。　If　the　woman　is　on　the　strength　and　wants　to　marry　you；　then　I　don't　suppose　we　can　stop　her。　I'll　talk　to　the　Major。　You're　dismissed。'
　Sharpe　hesitated；　wondering　whether　he　should　thank　the　Captain　for　the　laconic　words；　but　before　he　could　say　any…thing；　Hakeswill　was　bawling　in　his　ear。　'About　turn！　Smartly　now！　Hat　on！　Quick　march！　One　two　one　two；　smartly　now。　Mind　the　bleeding　curtain；　boy！　This　ain't　a　pig　sty　like　what　you　grew　up　in；　but　an　officer's　quarters！'
　Morris　waited　till　Sharpe　was　gone；　then　looked　up　at　Lawford。　'Nothing　more；　Lieutenant？'
　Lawford　guessed　that　he　too　was　dismissed。　'You　will　talk　to　Major　Shee；　Charles？'　he　pressed　Morris。
　'I　just　said　so；　didn't　I？'　Morris　glared　up　at　the　Lieutenant。
　Lawford　hesitated；　then　nodded。　'Good　night；　sir；'　he　said　and　ducked　under　the　muslin　screen。
　Morris　waited　until　he　was　certain　that　both　men　were　out　of　earshot。　'Now　what　do　we　do？'　he　asked　Hakeswill。
　'Tell　the　silly　bugger　that　Major　Shee　refused　permission；　sir。'
　'And　Willie　Lawford　will　talk　to　the　Major　and　find　that　he　didn't。　Or　else　he'll　go　straight　to　Wellesley。　Lawford's　uncle　is　on　the　staff；　or　had　you　forgotten　that？　Use　your　wits；　man！'　Morris　slapped　at　a　moth　that　had　managed　to　slip　through　the　screen。　'What　do　we　do？'　he　asked