bcornwell.sharpstiger-第6节

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　'mon　grit；　sir；'　Hakeswill　said。　'mon　bloody　grit；　sir；　no　good　to　man　or　beast。'
　'Might　I？'　A　new　voice　spoke。　Lieutenant　William　Lawford　had　dismounted　to　join　Morris　and　now；　without　waiting　for　his　Captain's　permission；　he　reached　over　and　took　the　flint　from　Morris's　hand。　Lawford　was　blushing　again；　astonished　by　his　own　temerity　in　thus　intervening。　'There's　an　easy　way　to　check；　sir；'　Lawford　said　nervously；　then　he　drew　out　his　pistol；　cocked　it　and　struck　the　loose　flint　against　the　pistol'ssteel。　Even　in　the　day's　bright　sunlight　there　was　an　obvious　spark。　'Seems　like　a　good　flint　to　me；　sir；'　Lawford　said　mildly。　Ensign　Fitzgerald；　standing　behind　Lawford；　gave　Sharpe　a　conspiratorial　grin。　'A　perfectly　good　flint；'　Lawford　insisted　less　diffidently。
　Morris　gave　Hakeswill　a　furious　look　then　turned　on　his　heel　and　strode　back　towards　his　horse。　Lawford　tossed　the　flint　to　Sharpe。　'Make　your　gun　ready；　Sharpe；'　he　said。
　'Yes；　sir。　Thank　you；　sir。'
　Lawford　and　Fitzgerald　walked　away　as　Hakeswill；　humiliated；　thrust　the　musket　back　at　Sharpe。　'Clever　bastard；　Sharpie；　aren't　you？'
　'I'II　have　the　leather　as　well；　Sergeant；'　Sharpe　said　and；　once　he　had　the　flint's　seating　back；　he　called　after　Hakeswill　who　had　begun　to　walk　away。　'Sergeant！'
　Hakeswill　turned　back。
　'You　want　this；　Sergeant？'　Sharpe　called。　He　took　a　chip　of　stone　out　of　his　pocket。　He　had　found　it　when　he　had　untied　the　rag　from　the　musket's　lock　and　realized　that　Hakeswill　had　substituted　the　stone　for　the　flint　when　he　had　pretended　to　inspect　Sharpe's　musket。　'No　use　to　me；　Sergeant；'　Sharpe　said。　'Here。'　He　tossed　the　stone　at　Hakeswill　who　ignored　it。　Instead　the　Sergeant　spat　and　turned　away。　'Thanks；　Tom；'　Sharpe　said；　for　it　had　been　Garrard　who　had　supplied　him　with　a　spare　flint。
　'Worth　being　in　the　army　to　see　that；'　Garrard　said；　and　all　around　him　men　laughed　to　have　seen　Hakeswill　and　Morris　defeated。
　'Eyes　to　your　front；　lads！'　Ensign　Fitzgerald　called。　The　Irish　Ensign　was　the　youngest　officer　in　the　pany；　but　he　had　the　confidence　of　a　much　older　man。　'Got　some　shooting　to　do。'
　Sharpe　pushed　back　into　his　file。　He　brought　up　the　musket；　folded　the　leather　over　the　flint　and　seated　it　in　the　doghead；　men　looked　up　to　see　that　the　mass　of　the　enemy　was　nowjust　a　hundred　paces　away。　They　were　shouting　rhythmically　and　pausing　occasionally　to　let　a　trumpet　sound　or　a　drum　flourish　a　ripple；　but　the　loudest　sound　was　the　beat　of　their　feet　on　the　dry　earth。　Sharpe　tried　to　count　the　column's　front　rank；　but　kept　losing　count　as　enemy　officers　marched　slantwise　across　the　column's　face。　There　had　to　be　thousands　of　the　tiger　troops；　all　marching　like　a　great　sledgehammer　to　shatter　the　two…deep　line　of　redcoats。
　'Cutting　it　fine；　aren't　we？'　a　man　plained。
　'Wait　lads；　wait；'　Sergeant　Green　said　calmly。
　The　enemy　now　filled　the　landscape　ahead。　They　came　in　a　column　formed　of　sixty　ranks　of　fifty　men；　three　thousand　in　all；　though　to　Sharpe's　inexperienced　eye　it　seemed　as　if　there　must　be　ten　times　that　number。　None　of　the　Tippoo's　men　fired　as　they　advanced；　but　held　their　fire　just　as　the　33rd　were　holding　theirs。　The　enemy's　muskets　were　tipped　with　bayonets　while　their　officers　were　holding　deeply　curved　sabres。　On　they　came　and　to　Sharpe；　who　was　watching　the　column　from　the　left　of　the　line　so　that　he　could　see　its　flank　as　well　as　its　leading　file；　the　enemy　formation　seemed　as　unstoppable　as　a　heavily　loaded　farm　wagon　that　was　rolling　slowly　and　inexorably　towards　a　flimsy　fence。
　He　could　see　the　enemy's　faces　now。　They　were　dark；　with　black　moustaches　and　oddly　white　teeth。　The　tiger　men　were　close；　so　close；　and　their　chanting　began　to　dissolve　into　individual　war　shouts。　Any　second　now；　Sharpe　thought；　and　the　heavy　column　would　break　into　a　run　and　charge　with　levelled　bayonets。
　'Thirty…third！'　Colonel　Wellesley's　voice　called　out　sharply　from　beneath　the　regiment's　colours。　'Make　ready！'
　Sharpe　put　his　right　foot　behind　his　left　so　that　his　body　half　turned　to　the　right；　then　he　brought　his　musket　to　hip　height　and　pulled　the　hammer　back　to　full　cock。　It　clicked　solidly　into　place；　and　somehow　the　pent…up　pressure　of　the　gun's　mainspring　was　reassuring。　To　the　approaching　enemyit　seemed　as　though　the　whole　British　line　had　half　turned　and　the　sudden　movement；　ing　from　men　who　had　been　waiting　so　silently；　momentarily　checked　their　eagerness。　Above　the　tiger　troops　of　Mysore；　beneath　a　bunch　of　flags　on　the　ridge　where　the　guns　fired；　a　group　of　horsemen　watched　the　column。　Was　the　Tippoo　himself　there？　Sharpe　wondered。　And　was　the　Tippoo　dreaming　of　that　far…off　day　when　he　had　broken　three　and　half　thousand　British　and　Indian　troops　and　marched　them　off　to　captivity　in　his　capital　at　Seringapatam？　The　cheers　of　the　attackers　were　filling　the　sky　now；　but　still　Colonel　Wellesley's　voice　was　audible　over　the　tumult。　'Present！'
　Seven　hundred　muskets　came　up　to　seven　hundred　shoulders。　The　muskets　were　tipped　with　steel；　seven　hundred　muskets　aimed　at　the　head　of　the　column　and　about　to　blast　seven　hundred　ounces　of　lead　at　the　leading　ranks　of　that　fast…moving；　confident　mass　that　was　plunging　straight　towards　the　pair　of　British　colours　under　which　Colonel　Arthur　Wellesley　waited。　The　tiger　men　were　hurrying　now；　their　front　rank　breaking　apart　as　they　began　running。　The　wagon　was　about　to　hit　the　fence。
　Arthur　Wellesley　had　waited　six　years　for　this　moment。　He　was　twenty…nine　years　old　and　had　begun　to　fear　that　he　would　never　see　battle；　but　now；　at　last；　he　would　discover　whether　he　and　his　regiment　could　fight；　and　so　he　filled　his　lungs　to　give　the　order　that　would　start　the　slaughter。
　Colonel　Jean　Gudin　sighed；　then；　for　the　thousandth　time　in　the　last　hour；　he　fanned　his　face　to　drive　away　the　flies。　He　liked　India；　but　he　hated　flies；　which　made　India　quite　hard　to　like；　but　on　balance；　despite　the　flies；　he　did　like　India。　Not　nearly　as　much　as　he　liked　his　native　Provence；　but　where　on　earth　was　as　lovely　as　Provence？　'Your　Majesty？'　he　ventured　diffidently；　then　waited　as　his　interpreter　struggled　to　gain　the　Tippoo's　attention。　The　interpreter　was　exchangingGudin's　French　for　the　Tippoo's　Persian　tongue。　The　Tippoo　did　understand　some　French　and　he　spoke　the　local　Kanarese　language　well　enough；　but　he　preferred　Persian　for　it　reminded　him　that　his　lineage　went　back　to　the　great　Persian　dynasties。　The　Tippoo　was　ever　mindful　that　he　was　superior　to　the　darker…skinned　natives　of　Mysore。　He　was　a　Muslim；　he　was　a　Persian　and　he　was　a　ruler；　while　they　were　mostly　Hindus；　and　all　of　them；　whether　rich；　poor；　great　or　lowly；　were　his　obedient　subjects。　'Your　Majesty？'　Colonel　Gudin　tried　again。
　'Colonel？'　The　Tippoo　was　a　short　man　inclined　to　plumpness；　with　a　moustached　face；　wide　eyes　and　a　prominent　nose。　He　was　not　an　impressive…looking　man；　but　Gudin　knew　the　Tippoo's　unprepossessing　appearance　disguised　a　decisive　mind　and　a　brave　heart。　Although　the　Tippoo　acknowledged　Gudin；　he　did　not　turn　to　look　at　the　Colonel。　Instead　he　leaned　forward　in　his　saddle　with　one　hand　clasped　over　the　tiger　hilt　of　his　curved　sabre　as　he　watched　his　infantry　march　on　the　infidel　British。　The　sword　was　slung　on　a　silken　sash　that　crossed　the　pale　yellow　silk　jacket　that　the　Tippoo　wore　above　chintz　trousers。　His　turban　was　of　red　silk　and　pinned　with　a　gold　badge　showing　a　tiger's　mask。　The　Tippoo's　every　possible　accoutrement　was　decorated　with　the　tiger；　for　the　tiger　was　his　mascot　and　inspiration；　but　the　badge　on　his　turban　also　incorporated　his　reverence　for　Allah；　for　the　tiger's　snarling　face　was　formed　by　a　cunning　cipher　that　spelled　out　a　verse　of　the　Koran：　'The　Lion　of　God　is　the　Conqueror。'　Above　it；　pinned　to　the　turban's　brief　white　plume　and　brilliant　in　the　day's　sunlight；　there　glittered　a　ruby　the　size　of　a　pigeon's　egg。　'Colonel？'　the　Tippoo　said　again。
　'It　might　be　wise；　Your　Majesty；'　Gudin　suggested　hesitantly；　'if　we　advanced　cannon　and　cavalry　onto　the　British　flank。'　Gudin　gestured　to　where　the　33rd　waited　in　its　thin　red　line　to　receive　the　charge　of　the　Tippoo's　column。　If　the　Tippoo　threatened　a　flank　of　that　fragile　line　with　cavalrythen　the　British　regiment　would　be　forced　to　shrink　into　square　and　thus　deny　three　quarters　of　their　muskets　a　chance　to　fire　at　the　column。
　The　Tippoo　shook　his　head。　'We　shall　sweep　that　scum　away　with　our　infantry；　Gudin；　then　send　the　cavalry　against　the　baggage。'　He　let　go　of　his　sword's　hilt　to　touch　his　fingers　fleetingly　together。　'Please　Allah。'
　'And　if　it　does　not　please　Allah？'　Gudin　asked；　and　suspected　that　his　interpreter　would　change　the　insolence　of　the　question　into　something　more　acceptable　to　the　Tippoo。
　'Then　we　shall　fight　them　from　the　walls　of　Seringapatam；'　the　Tippoo　answered；　and　turned　briefly　from　watching　the　imminent　battle　to　offer　Colonel　Gudin　a　quick　smile。　It　was　not　a　friendly　smile；　but　a　feral　grimace　of　anticipation。　'We　shall　destroy　them　with　cannon；　Colonel；'　the　Tippoo　continued　with　relish；　'and　shatter　them　with　rockets；　and　in　a　few　weeks　the　monsoon　will　drown　their　survivors；　and　after　that；　if　Allah　pleases；　we　shall　hunt　fugitive　Englishmen　from　here　to　the　sea