bcornwell.sharpstiger-第70节

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tinued　there；　he　only　knew　that　he　and　his　men　were　taking　a　terrible　toll　of　the　attackers　on　the　northern　wall。　The　Tippoo　had　been　forced　slowly　back　by　the　sheer　weight　of　numbers　that　poured　onto　the　ramparts；　and　that　bloody　retreat　had　driven　him　off　the　western　ramparts；　back　around　the　corner　by　the　remnants　of　the　north…western　bastion　and　so　onto　the　long　stretch　of　northern　wall　which　faced　towards　the　River　Cauvery；　but　there　his　retreat　had　stopped。　A　cushoon　of　infantry　had　been　stationed　in　the　Sultan　Battery；　the　largest　bastion　in　the　north　wall；　and　that　garrison　hurried　along　the　walls　to　reinforce　the　Tippoo　who　now　possessed　enough　men　to　overwhelm　the　musketry　of　the　attackers　on　the　narrow　northern　firestep。　The　Tippoo　still　led　the　fight。　He　was　dressed　in　a　white　linen　tunic　and　loose　chintz　drawers　with　a　red　silk　sash　about　his　waist。　He　had　jewelled　armlets；　the　great　ruby　glittered　on　the　feathered　plume　of　his　helmet；　there　were　pearls　and　an　emerald　necklace　at　his　throat　and　the　gold…hilted　tiger　swordat　his　side。　Those　gaudy　stones　made　him　a　target　for　every　redcoat　and　sepoy；　yet　he　insisted　on　staying　in　the　very　front　rank　where　he　could　pour　his　rifle　fire　at　the　stalled　attackers；　and　his　charms　worked；　for　though　the　bullets　flicked　close　none　hit　him。　He　was　the　tiger　of　Mysore；　he　could　not　die；　only　kill。
　The　attackers　suffered　even　worse　damage　from　the　men　on　the　inner　wall。　That　wall　had　not　been　breached；　it　had　not　even　been　attacked；　and　more　and　more　tiger…striped　infantry　hurried　up　its　ramps　to　reinforce　the　defenders。　They　fired　across　the　inner　ditch　and　their　musket　balls　flayed　at　the　crowded　attackers　and　their　cannon　fire　cleared　whole　stretches　of　the　outer　wall。　Only　the　blinding　powder　smoke　that　hung　between　the　walls　protected　the　attackers；　who　either　endured　the　terrible　flank　fire　or　else　crouched　behind　dismounted　cannon　and　prayed　that　their　ordeal　would　soon　end。　They　had　captured　the　north…western　corner　of　the　outer　wall；　but　it　seemed　to　have　gained　them　nothing　but　death；　for　now　it　was　the　turn　of　the　Tippoo's　men　to　be　the　slaughterers。
　Baird；　heading　south　from　the　breach；　encountered　similar　resistance；　but　Baird　was　in　no　mood　to　be　delayed。　He　caught　up　and　passed　the　survivors　of　the　Forlorn　Hope　and；　shouting　like　a　demon；　led　a　crazed　charge　past　the　ruined　gatehouse　where　the　remnants　of　the　Tippoo's　mine　smoked　like　the　pit　of　hell。　Baird　was　a　major　general；　but　he　would　gladly　have　given　all　the　gold　lace　on　his　uniform　for　this　one　chance　to　fight　like　a　mon　soldier。　This　was　revenge；　and　the　great　claymore　hacked　into　the　Tippoo's　men　as　Baird　bellowed　his　challenge　that　mingled　fury　with　the　agonized　memories　of　his　humiliation　in　this　city。　He　fought　like　a　creature　possessed；　stepping　over　the　dead　and　slipping　on　their　blood　as　he　carried　the　battle　down　the　walls。　His　men　howled　with　him。　They　were　caught　up　in　Baird's　madness。　At　this　hour；　under　the　fire　of　the　sun　and　emboldened　by　the　arrack　and　rum　they　had　drunk　in　their　long　wait　in　thetrenches；　the　redcoats　and　sepoys　had　bee　gods　of　war。　They　gave　death　with　impunity　as　they　followed　a　war…maddened　Scotsman　down　an　enemy　wall　that　was　sticky　with　blood。　Baird　would　have　his　city　or　else　he　would　die　in　its　dust。
　Appah　Rao's　cushoons　defended　the　south…western　corner　of　the　city　and　Appah　Rao　watched　appalled　as　the　hugely　tall　Scotsman　hacked　his　way　towards　him。　He　watched　the　torrent　of　redcoats　swarming　behind　the　giant；　and　he　heard　their　shouts　and　he　watched　their　victims　fall　off　the　ramparts。　The　brigade　that　defended　that　stretch　of　wall　was　being　killed　man　by　man；　and　those　that　lived　were　giving　way　and　some　were　running　ratiier　than　face　the　horror；　and　Appah　Rao's　men　were　next　for　the　slaughter。
　But　to　die　for　what？　he　wondered。　The　city　was　gone　and　the　Tippoo's　dynasty　was　doomed。　Appah　Rao　knew　his　men　were　watching　him；　waiting　for　the　order　that　would　hurl　them　into　battle；　but　instead　the　General　turned　to　his　second…in…mand。　'When　were　the　men　last　paid？'　he　asked。
　The　officer　frowned；　puzzled　by　the　question；　but　at　last　managed　an　answer。　'Three　months　at　least；　sahib。　Four；　I　think。'
　'Tell　them　there　will　be　a　pay　parade　this　afternoon。'
　'Sahib？'　The　second…in…mand　gaped　up　at　Appah　Rao。
　The　General　raised　his　voice　so　that　as　many　of　his　men　as　possible　could　hear　him。　'The　pay　is　overdue；　so　this　afternoon　we　shall　have　a　pay　parade　in　the　encampment。　Men　shouldn't　fight　without　pay。'　He　ostentatiously　sheathed　his　sword　and　walked　calmly　down　from　the　ramparts。　Here；　at　the　Mysore　Gate；　there　was　no　ditch　between　the　inner　and　outer　walls；　and　Rao　airily　strode　through　the　inner　gate。　For　a　second　his　men　watched　him；　then　first　in　ones　and　twos；　and　afterwards　in　a　rush；　they　followed。　One　instant　the　wall　was　crammed　with　men；　the　next　it　was　emptying　so　that　Baird；　cutting　his　furious　way　through　the　last　of　the　westwall's　guards；　suddenly　saw　that　the　city　was　his。　He　howled　again；　this　time　in　victory。　His　butcher's　sword　was　red　with　blood；　his　right　sleeve　soaked　with　it。　A　redcoat；　perhaps　forgetting　that　the　Scotsman　was　a　general；　slapped　his　back　and　Baird　hugged　the　man　for　pure　joy。
　The　Tippoo　still　fought　and　still　thought　he　could　win；　but　on　the　northern　wall；　just　twenty　yards　beyond　the　north…west　bastion；　a　single　cross…wall　joined　the　inner　and　outer　ramparts。　The　cross…wall　served　as　a　buttress　for　the　old　outer　wall；　and　at　one　time　it　had　been　intended　to　thicken　the　buttressing　cross…wall；　then　make　the　space　it　contained　into　an　even　larger　bastion；　but　the　work　had　never　been　done　and　now　the　wall；　its　coping　just　eight　inches　across；　offered　itself　as　a　perilously　narrow　bridge　to　the　redcoats　and　sepoys　who　were　trapped　by　the　Tippoo's　fire。　If　they　could　cross　that　bridge　they　could　assault　the　inner　wall　and　scour　its　defenders　from　the　deadly　parapet。　One　man　tried　to　cross　and　was　shot　down。　He　wailed　as　he　fell　into　the　ditch。　A　moment　later　another　man　dashed　across　and　reached　halfway　before　a　musket　ball　shattered　his　lower　leg。　He　dropped　his　own　musket　and　fell　onto　the　wall's　coping；　cursing　as　he　tried　to　keep　his　balance；　then　a　second　shot　tipped　him　over　the　side。　For　a　second　or　two　he　managed　to　cling　to　the　top　of　the　wall；　shuddering　as　pain　shook　his　body；　then　he　too　dropped。
　The　Tippoo's　men　on　the　outer　wall　cheered　and　edged　forward　to　drive　the　enemy　away　from　the　buttressing　cross…wall；　but　a　rush　of　sepoys　checked　their　progress。　A　new　musket　duel　broke　out；　Indian　against　Indian；　a　torrent　of　fire　in　which　the　Tippoo　somehow　survived　like　a　charmed　being。　The　sepoys　fired　volley　after　volley；　came　forward；　died；　and　more　men　came　to　take　their　places。
　The　Light　pany　of　the　Ring's　iath　regiment　followed　the　sepoys。　Captain　Goodall；　their　mander；　eyed　the　narrow　buttress。　It　led　directly　to　the　inner　wall　which　was　heavywith　defenders；　but　it　was　also　a　bridge　to　victory。　'Death　or　glory！'　Goodall　shouted　the　cliche；　but　it　was　a　truism　too　at　that　moment；　and　then　he　stepped　out　onto　the　narrow　coping　and　fired　his　pistol　into　the　lingering　powder　smoke　that　obscured　the　far　end　of　the　wall。　'e　on！'　he　called；　then　ran　along　the　top　of　the　wall；　miraculously　keeping　his　footing。　He　jumped　onto　the　inner　wall's　parapet　and　slashed　down　with　his　sword。　A　man　fired　up　at　him；　but　Goodall's　Sergeant；　ing　hard　behind；　had　unceremoniously　shoved　his　Captain　out　of　the　way　and　Goodall　fell　down　onto　the　inner　wall's　firestep　and　the　bullet　missed　him。　The　Sergeant　was　next　across　the　parapet；　then　a　line　of　screaming　men　followed　as　Goodall　fought　his　way　eastwards。　The　fire　from　the　inner　wall；　which　had　been　gutting　the　attackers；　began　to　falter；　and　suddenly　a　rush　of　redcoats；　who　had　been　crouching　for　shelter　from　the　inner　wall's　musketry；　ran　eastwards　along　the　outer　wall　towards　the　Tippoo。　Others　crossed　the　makeshift　bridge　to　reinforce　the　lath's　Light　pany。
　The　Tippoo　saw　the　enemy　revive。　They　were　like　a　beast　that　had　been　wounded；　but　not　killed；　and　the　beast　had　life　in　it　yet。　Too　much　life；　and　the　Tippoo　understood　that　his　night's　troublesome　dreams　had　been　right　after　all。　The　turbid　oil　pot　had　told　the　truth。　This　day　the　city　would　fall；　and　with　it　his　throne　and　his　palace　and　his　seraglio　with　its　six　hundred　women；　but　the　disaster　did　not　mean　the　dynasty　was　dead。　There　were　great　forts　in　Mysore's　northern　hills　and　if　he　could　reach　one　of　those　fastnesses　then　he　could　still　fight　on　against　these　devils　in　red　who　were　stealing　his　capital。
　The　Tippoo　retreated　fast　and　his　bodyguard　went　with　him。　They　left　other　men　to　defend　the　outer　wall　while　they　ran　past　the　Sultan　Battery　to　the　ramp　which　led　down　to　the　Water　Gate　and　there；　at　the　foot　of　the　ramp；　the　palace　chamberlains　had　thought　to　have　His　Majesty's　palanquin　ready　with　its　bearers。　One　of　the　chamberlains；　oblivious　ofthe　bullets　hissing　through　the　sky；　bowed　low　to　the　Tippoo　and　invited　His　Majesty　to　take　his　proper　place　on　the　plump　silk　cushions　beneath　the　palanquin's　tiger…striped　canopy。　The　Tippoo　turned　and　glanced　up　at　the　walls　to　see　what　progress　the