bcornwell.sharpstiger-第55节

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　'Of　course　we　can！'　the　officer　answered。　'We　shall　start　splintering　his　bones　now；　but　not　his　spine；　not　yet。　We　want　the　pain　to　go　on。'　He　nodded；　and　the　jetti　slashed　down　again　and　this　time　Sharpe　did　cry　aloud　as　the　stab　of　pain　brought　back　all　the　agony　of　the　flogging。
　'A　merchant！'　Lawford　blurted　out。
　The　officer　held　up　his　hand　to　stop　the　beating。　'A　merchant；　Lieutenant？　The　city　is　full　of　merchants。'
　'He　deals　in　metals；'　Lawford　said。　'I　don't　know　more　than　that。'
　'Of　course　you　do；'　the　officer　said；　then　nodded　at　the　jetti　who　raised　the　ramrod　high　in　the　air。
　'Ravi　Shekhar！'　Lawford　shouted。　The　Lieutenant　was　bitterly　ashamed　for　giving　the　name　away；　and　the　shame　was　obvious　on　his　face；　but　nor　could　Lawford　stand　by　and　watch　Sharpe　beaten　to　death。　He　believed；　or　he　wanted　to　believe；　that　he　could　have　endured　the　pain　of　the　beating　himself　without　betraying　the　name；　but　it　was　more　than　he　could　bear　to　watch　another　man　pounded　into　a　bloody　pulp。
　'Ravi　Shekhar；'　the　officer　said；　checking　thejettfs　stroke。　'And　how　did　you　find　him？'
　'We　didn't；'　Lawford　said。　'We　didn't　know　how！　We　were　waiting　till　we　spoke　some　of　your　language；　then　we　were　going　to　ask　for　him　about　the　city；　but　we　haven't　tried　yet。'
　Sharpe　groaned。　Blood　trickled　down　his　sides　and　dripped　onto　the　stones。　One　of　the　tigers　staled　beside　the　wall　and　the　smell　of　urine　filled　the　courtyard　with　its　thin　sour　stench。The　officer；　who　was　wearing　one　of　the　prized　gold　tiger　medallions　about　his　neck；　talked　with　the　Tippoo　who　stared　dispassionately　at　Sharpe；　then　asked　a　question。
　'And　what；　Lieutenant；'　the　officer　translated；　'would　you　have　told　Ravi　Shekhar？'
　'Everything　we'd　discovered　about　the　defences；'　Lawford　said　miserably。　'That's　why　we　were　sent。'
　'And　what　did　you　discover？'
　'How　many　men　you　have；　how　many　guns；　how　many　rockets。'
　'That's　all？'
　'It's　enough；　isn't　it？'　Lawford　retorted。
　The　officer　translated　the　answers。　The　Tippoo　shrugged；　glanced　at　Lawford；　then　took　a　small　brown　leather　bag　from　inside　a　pocket　of　his　yellow　silk　tunic。　He　unlaced　the　bag's　mouth；　stepped　to　Sharpe's　side；　then　trickled　salt　onto　the　beaten　man's　open　wounds。　Sharpe　hissed　with　the　pain。
　'Who　else　would　you　have　told　in　the　city？'　the　officer　asked。
　'There　was　no　one　else！'　Lawford　pleaded。　'In　the　name　of　God；　there　was　no　one　else。　We　were　told　Ravi　Shekhar　could　get　a　message　out。　That　was　all！'
　The　Tippoo　believed　him。　Lawford's　chagrin　was　so　clear　and　his　shame　so　palpable　that　he　was　utterly　believable。　Besides；　the　story　made　sense。　'And　so　you've　never　seen　Ravi　Shekhar？'　the　officer　asked。
　'Never。'
　'You're　looking　at　him　now；'　the　officer　said；　gesturing　at　the　tigers。　'His　body　was　fed　to　the　tigers　weeks　ago。'
　'Oh；　God；'　Lawford　said；　and　he　closed　his　eyes　as　he　realized　just　what　an　utter　failure　he　had　been。　For　a　moment　he　wanted　to　retch；　then　he　controlled　the　impulse　and　opened　his　eyes　to　watch　as　the　Tippoo　picked　up　Sharpe's　red　coat　and　dropped　it　onto　the　bloody　back。
　For　a　second　the　Tippoo　hesitated；　wondering　whether　torelease　the　tigers　onto　the　two　men。　Then　he　turned　away。　'Take　them　to　the　cells；'　he　ordered。
　The　sacrifice　of　prisoners　had　yielded　up　the　traitors　and　turned　the　Tippoo's　luck。　There　was　no　need　for　a　further　sacrifice；　not　yet；　but　the　Tippoo　knew　that　fortune　was　ever　capricious　and　so　the　prisoners　could　wait　until　another　sacrifice　was　needed　and　then；　to　guarantee　victory　or　to　stave　off　defeat；　they　would　die。　And　till　then；　the　Tippoo　decided；　they　could　just　rot。
　
　CHAPTER　9
　
　The　dungeons　lay　in　one　of　the　palace's　northern　courtyards；　hard　under　the　city's　inner　mud　wall。　The　courtyard　stank　of　sewage；　the　smell　powerful　enough　to　make　Sharpe　half　retch　as　he　staggered　beside　Lawford　at　the　point　of　a　bayonet。　The　courtyard　was　a　busy　place。　The　families　of　the　palace　servants　lived　in　low　thatched　buildings　surrounding　the　yard　where　their　lives　were　spent　cheek　by　jowl　with　the　Tippoo's　stables　and　the　small　enclosure　where　he　kept　eight　cheetahs　he　used　for　hunting　gazelles。　The　cheetahs　were　taken　to　the　hunt　in　wheeled　cages　and　at　first　Sharpe　thought　they　were　to　be　placed　inside　one　of　the　barred　vehicles；　but　then　one　of　the　escorts　pushed　him　past　the　ponderous　carts　towards　a　flight　of　stone　steps　that　descended　to　a　long　narrow　trench　of　stone　that　lay　open　to　the　sky。　A　tall　fence　of　iron　bars　surrounded　the　pit　that　was　guarded　by　a　pair　of　soldiers。　One　of　them　used　a　key　to　open　a　padlock　the　size　of　a　mango；　then　the　escort　shoved　Sharpe　and　Lawford　through　the　open　gate。
　The　dungeon　guards　did　not　carry　muskets；　but　instead　had　coiled　whips　in　their　belts　and　bell…mouthed　blunderbusses　on　their　shoulders。　One　of　them　pointed　mutely　down　the　steps　and　Sharpe；　following　Lawford　down　the　stairs；　saw　that　the　trench　was　a　stone…flagged；　dead…end　corridor　lined　on　either　side　with　barred　cells。　There　were　eight　cells　in　the　pit；　four　on　each　side；　and　each　separated　from　its　neighbours；　and　from　the　central　trench…like　corridor；　by　iron　bars　alone；　butbars　that　were　as　thick　as　a　man's　wrist。　The　turnkey　indicated　that　they　should　wait　while　he　unlocked　a　cell；　but　the　first　padlock　he　attempted　to　open　had　bee　stiff；　or　else　had　rusted；　for　it　would　not　budge；　and　then　he　could　not　find　a　key　to　fit　another　of　the　big　old　locks。　Something　stirred　in　the　straw　of　the　cell　that　lay　at　the　far　right…hand　end　of　the　corridor。　Sharpe；　waiting　as　the　guard　sorted　through　his　keys；　heard　the　straw　rustle　again；　then　there　was　a　growl　as　a　huge　tiger　heaved　up　from　its　bed　to　stare　at　them　with　blank　yellow　eyes。
　More　straw　stirred　in　the　first　cell　on　the　left；　close　by　where　Sharpe　and　Lawford　were　standing。　'Look　who　it　isn't！'　Hakeswill　had　e　to　the　bars。　'Sharpie！'
　'Be　quiet；　Sergeant；'　Lawford　snapped。
　'Yes；　sir；　Mister　Lieutenant　Lawford；　sir；　quiet　it　is；　sir。'　Hakeswill　clung　to　the　bars　of　his　cage；　staring　wide…eyed　at　the　two　newers。　His　face　twitched。　'Quiet　as　the　grave；　sir；　but　no　one　talks　to　me　down　here。　He　won't。'　He　nodded　towards　the　cell　opposite　that　the　guard　was　now　unlocking。　'Likes　it　quiet；　he　does；'　Hakeswill　went　on。　'Like　a　bleeding　church。　Says　his　prayers　too。　Always　quiet　it　is　here；　except　when　the　darkies　are　having　a　shout　at　each　other。　Dirty　bastards　they　are。　Smell　the　sewage；　can　you？　One　giant　jakes！'　Hakeswill's　face　twisted　in　rictus　and；　in　the　gloom　of　the　shadowed　cells；　his　eyes　seemed　to　glitter　with　an　unholy　delight。　'Been　missing　pany；　I　have。'
　'Bastard；'　Sharpe　muttered。
　'Quiet！　Both　of　you；'　Lawford　insisted　and　then；　with　his　innate　politeness；　the　Lieutenant　nodded　thanks　to　the　guard　who　had　finally　opened　the　cell　directly　opposite　Hakeswill's　lair。　'e　on；　Sharpe；'　Lawford　said；　then　stepped　fastidiously　into　the　filthy　straw。　The　cell　was　eight　foot　deep　and　ten　foot　long　and　a　little　over　the　height　of　a　man。　The　sewage　smell　was　rank；　but　no　worse　than　in　the　courtyard　above。　The　barred　door　clashed　shut　behind　them　and　the　key　was　turned。'Willie；'　a　tired　voice　said　from　the　shadows　of　the　cell；　'how　very　good　of　you　to　visit　me。'　Sharpe；　his　eyes　accustoming　themselves　to　the　dimness　of　the　dungeons；　saw　that　Colonel　McCandless　had　been　crouching　in　one　corner；　half　shrouded　by　straw。　The　Colonel　now　stood　to　greet　them；　but　he　was　weak　for　he　tottered　as　he　stood；　though　he　shook　off　Law…ford's　attempt　to　help　him。　'A　fever；'　he　explained。　'It　es　and　it　goes。　I've　had　it　for　years。　I　suspect　the　only　thing　that　will　cure　it　will　be　some　soft　Scottish　rain；　but　that　seems　an　ever　more　unlikely　prospect。　It　is　good　to　see　you；　Willie。'
　'You　too；　sir。　You've　met　Private　Sharpe；　I　think。'
　McCandless　gave　Sharpe　a　grim　look。　'I　have　a　question　for　you；　young　man。'
　'It　wasn't　gunpowder；　sir；'　Sharpe　said；　remembering　his　first　confrontation　with　the　Colonel　and　thus　anticipating　the　question。　'It　tasted　wrong；　sir。　Wasn't　salty。'
　'Aye；　it　didn't　look　like　powder；'　the　Scotsman　said。　'It　was　blowing　in　the　wind　like　flour；　but　that　wasn't　my　question；　Private。　My　question；　Private；　is　what　would　you　have　done　if　it　had　been　gunpowder？'
　'I'd　have　shot　you；　sir；'　Sharpe　said；　'begging　your　pardon；　sir。'
　'Sharpe！'　Lawford　remonstrated。
　'Quite　right；　man；'　McCandless　said。　'The　wretched　fellow　was　testing　you；　wasn't　he？　He　was　giving　you　a　recruitment　test；　and　you　couldn't　fail　it。　I'm　glad　it　wasn't　powder；　but　I　don't　mind　saying　you　had　me　worried　for　a　brief　while。　Do　you　mind　if　I　sit；　Willie？　I'm　not　in　my　usual　good　health。'　He　sank　back　into　his　straw　from　where　he　frowned　up　at　Sharpe。　'Nor　are　you；　Private。　Are　you　in　pain？'
　'Bastards　cracked　a　rib；　sir；　and　I'm　bleeding　a　bit。　Do　you　mind　if　I　sit？'　Sharpe　gingerly　sat　against　the　side　bars　of　the　cell　and　carefully　lifted　away　the　coat　that　had　been　draped　over　his　back。　'Bit　of　fresh　air　will　heal　it；　sir；'　he　said　to　Lawford　who　was　insisting　on　examining　the　newly　openedwounds；　though　there　was　nothing　he　could　do　to　help　them　mend。
　'You　won't　get　fresh　air　here；'　McCandless　said。　'You　smell　the　sewage？'
　'You