bcornwell.sharpescompany-第40部分

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　Hogan　turned　his　notebook　back　two　pages。　'Two　deserters；　my　Lord；　both　Germans；　both　from　the　Hesse…Darmstadt　Regiment。　They　confirm　that　the　Germans　are　garrisoning　the　castle。'　Hogan　raised　his　eyebrows。　'They　say　morale　is　high；　my　Lord。'
　
　'Then　why　desert？'
　
　'A　brother　of　one；　my　Lord；　is　with　the　KGL。'
　
　'Ah。　You're　sending　them　there？'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　The　King's　German　Legion　would　wele　the　recruits。
　
　'Anything　else？'　Wellington　liked　to　keep　the　morning　conferences　brisk。
　
　Hogan　nodded。　'They　confirm；　sir；　that　the　French　are　devoid　of　round　shot；　but　claim　plenty　of　canister　and　grape。　We　already　knew　that。'　He　hurried　on；　forestalling　a　plaint　of　repetition　from　the　General。　'They　also　say　the　city　is　terrified　of　a　massacre。'
　
　'Then　they　should　plead　for　a　surrender。'　〃The　city；　my　Lord；　is　partly　pro…French。'　It　was　true。　Spanish　civilians　had　been　seen　on　the　walls；　firing　muskets　at　the　trenches　sapping　forward　towards　the　fort　at　the　dam。　'They　are　hoping　for　our　defeat。　'
　
　'But。'　Wellington's　voice　was　scornful。'　They　hope　to　avoid　reprisals　if　we　win。　Is　that　right？〃
　
　Hogan　shrugged。　'Yes；　sir。'　It　was；　the　Irishman　thought；　a　vain　hope。　If　Wellington　had　his　way；　and　he　would；　the　assault　would　be　soon　and　the　way　into　the　city　hard。　If　they　did　win　through　the　breach；　and　Hogan　acknowledged　the　possibility　that　they　might　not；　then　the　troops　would　lose　all　vestiges　of　discipline。　It　had　always　been　so。　Soldiers　who　were　forced　to　fight　through　the　terror　of　a　narrow　breach　claimed　the　right　to　possess　the　fortress　and　all　within　it。　The　Irish　remembered　Drogheda　and　Wexford；　the　towns　sacked　by　Cromwell　and　his　English　troops；　and　the　stories　were　still　told　of　the　victors'　atrocities。　Stories　of　women　and　children　herded　into　a　church　that　was　fired；　the　English　celebrating　while　the　Irish　burned；　and　Hogan　thought　of　Teresa　and　her　child；　Sharpe's　child。　His　thoughts　snapped　back　to　the　meeting　as　Wellington　dictated　a　fast　order　to　an　aide…decamp。　The　order　forbade　any　looting　inside　the　city；　but　it　was　given；　Hogan　thought；　without　much　conviction。　Fletcher　listened　to　the　order　and　then；　once　again；　pounded　the　map　with　his　fist。
　
　'Bomb　them。'
　
　'Ah！　Colonel　Fletcher　is　with　us。'　Wellington　turned　to　him。
　
　Fletcher　smiled。　'I　say　bomb　them；　my　Lord。　Smoke　them　out！　They'll　give　up。'
　
　'And　how　long；　pray；　before　they　give　up？'
　
　Fletcher　shrugged。　He　knew　it　could　take　weeks　for　the　squat　howitzers　to　reduce　enough　of　Badajoz　to　smoking　rubble；　to　burn　the　food　supplies　and　thus　force　a　surrender。　'A　month；　my　Lord？'
　
　'Two；　more　like；　perhaps　three。　And　let　me　advert　you；　Colonel；　to　the　notion；　imperfectly　understood　though　it　may　be　within　the　walls；　that　the　Spanish　are　our　allies。　If　we　indiscriminately　bomb　them　with　shells　it　is　possible；　you　will　grant　me；　that　our　allies　will　be　displeased。'
　
　Fletcher　nodded。　'They'll　not　be　too　happy；　my　Lord；　if　your　men　rape　everything　that　moves　and　steal　everything　that　doesn't。'
　
　'We　will　trust　to　our　soldiers'　good　sense。'　The　words　were　cynically　said。　'And　now；　Colonel；　perhaps　you　can　tell　us　about　the　breaches。　Are　they　practical？'
　
　'No；　sir；　they　are　not。'　Fletcher's　Scottish　accent　was　stronger　again。　'I　can　tell　you　a　good　deal；　sir；　most　of　it　new。'　He　turned　the　map　round　so　that　the　General　was　looking　at　the　two　bastions　from　the　point　of　view　of　an　attacker。　The　Santa　Maria　was　to　the　left；　Trinidad　to　the　right。　Fletcher　had　marked　the　breaches。　The　Trinidad　had　lost　half　of　its　face；　a　gap　nearly　a　hundred　feet　wide　and　the　Engineer　had　penciled　in　his　estimate　of　the　height　reduction。　Twenty…five　feet。　The　flank　of　the　Santa　Maria　facing　the　Trinidad　was　equally　badly　hit。　'The　breaches；　as　you　can　see；　my　Lord；　are　now　about　twenty…five　feet　high。　That's　a　hell　of　a　climb！　That's　higher；　if　you'll　forgive　me　for　pointing　it　out；　than　the　unbreached　wall　at　Ciudad　Rodrigo！'　He　leaned　back　as　if　he　had　made　a　scoring　hit。
　
　Wellington　nodded。　'We　are　all　aware；　Colonel；　that　Badajoz　is　appreciably　bigger　than　Ciudad　Rodrigo。　Pray　continue。'
　
　'My　Lord。'　Fletcher　leaned　forward　again。　'Let　me　advert　you　to　this。'　He　grinned　as　he　used　one　of　Wellington's　favorite　expressions。　His　broad　finger　settled　on　the　ditch　to　the　front　of　the　Santa　Maria。　'They've　blocked　the　ditch　here；　and　here。'　The　finger　moved　to　the　right　of　the　Trinidad　breach。　'They're　boxing　us　in。'　His　voice　was　serious　now。　He　could　twist　the　General's　tail　from　time　to　time；　but　only　dared　do　it　because　he　was　a　good　Engineer；　trusted　by　Wellington；　and　he　saw　it　as　his　job　to　give　his　true　point　of　view　and　not　be　a　lickspittle。　The　finger　tapped　the　ditch。　'It　seems　they've　put　carts　in　the　ditch；　upturned　carts；　and　lengths　of　umber。　You　don't　have　to　be　a　genius　to　work　out　that　they　plan　to　fire　those　obstacles。　You　can　see　what　will　happen；　gentlemen。　Our　troops　will　be　in　the　ditch；　trying　to　climb　a　bloody　great　ramp；　and　there'll　be　no　escape　from　the　grapeshot。　They　can't　go　left　and　right　into　the　darkness　to　regroup。　They'll　be　trapped；　lit　up；　like　rats　in　a　bloody　barrel。'
　
　Wellington　listened　to　the　impassioned　outburst。　'You're　sure？'
　
　'Aye；　my　Lord；　and　there's　more。'
　
　'Go　on。'
　
　The　finger　stayed　to　the　right　of　the　Trinidad　breach。　'The　French　have　dug　another　ditch　here；　in　the　bottom　of　the　ditch；　and　flooded　it。　We'll　be　jumping　into　water；　deep　water；　and　it　looks　as　if　they're　extending　it。　Round　here。'　The　finger　traced　a　line　back　in　front　of　both　breaches。
　
　Wellington's　eyes　were　on　the　map。　'So　the　longer　we　wait；　the　more　difficult　it　bees？'
　
　Fletcher　sighed；　but　conceded　the　point。　'Aye；　there's　that。'
　
　Wellington　raised　his　eyes　to　the　Engineer。　'What　do　we。　gain　by　time？'
　
　'I　can　lower　the　breaches。'
　
　'By　how　much？'
　
　'Ten　feet。'
　
　'How　long？'
　
　'A　week。'
　
　Wellington　paused；　then。　'You　mean　two　weeks。'
　
　'Aye；　my　Lord；　perhaps。'
　
　'We　do　not　have　two　weeks。　We　do　not　have　one　week。　We　must　take　the　city。　It　must　be　soon。'　There　was　silence　in　the　room。　Outside　the　windows　the　guns　hammered　over　the　floodwaters。　Wellington　looked　back　to　the　map；　reached　over　the　table；　and　put　a　long　finger　on　the　huge　space　between　the　bastions。　'There's　a　ravelin　there？'
　
　'Aye；　my　Lord；　and　still　being　built。'　The　ravelin　was　sketched　on　the　map；　a　masonry　wedge；　diamond　shaped；　that　would　break　up　an　attack。　If　the　French　had　been　given　time　to　finish　it；　before　the　siege　guns　had　started　firing；　it　would　have　been　like　a　new　bastion；　built　in　the　ditch；　outflanking　all　attacks。　As　it　was　it　formed　a　vast；　flat…topped　obstacle；　surrounded　by　the　ditch；　smack　between　the　two　breaches。
　
　Wellington　looked　up　to　Fletcher。　'You　seem　very　sure　of　this　new　information？'
　
　'Aye；　my　Lord；　I　am。　We　had　a　laddie　on　the　glacis　last　night。　He　did　a　good　job。'　The　praise　was　grudging。
　
　'Who？'
　
　Fletcher　jerked　his　head　towards　Hogan。　'One　of　Major　Hogan's　lads；　sir。'
　
　'Who；　Major？'
　
　Hogan　stopped　fidgeting　with　his　snuffbox。　'Richard　Sharpe；　sir；　you'll　remember　him？'
　
　Wellington　leaned　back　in　his　chair。　'Good　Lord。　Sharpe？'　He　smiled。　'What's　he　doing　with　you？　I　thought　he　had　a　pany？'
　
　'He　did；　my　Lord。　His　gazette　was　refused。'
　
　Wellington's　face　scowled。　'By　God！　They　do　not　let　me　make　a　man　Corporal　in　this　damned　army！　So　Sharpe　was　on　the　glacis　last　night？'
　
　Hogan　nodded。　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　'Where　is　he　now？'
　
　'Outside；　sir。　I　thought　you　might　want　to　speak　to　him。'
　
　'Good　Lord；　yes。'　Wellington's　tone　was　dry。　'He's　the　only　man　in　the　army　who's　been　to　the　top　of　the　glacis。　Fetch　him　in！'
　
　There　were　Generals　of　Division；　of　Brigade；　gunners；　Engineers　and　staff　officers　and　they　all　turned　to　stare　at　the　tall；　green…jacketed　man。　They　had　all　heard　of　him；　even　the　Generals　newly　arrived　from　England；　because　this　was　the　man　who　had　captured　a　French　Eagle　and　who　looked　as　if　he　could　do　it　again。　He　looked　battered　and　hard；　like　the　weapons　that　festooned　him；　and　his　limp　and　scars　spoke　of　a　soldier　who　fought　grimly。　Wellington　smiled　at　him　and　looked　round　the　table。　'Captain　Sharpe　has　shared　all　my　battles；　gentlemen。　Isn't　that　right；　Sharpe？　From　Seringapatam　to　today？'　'Since　Boxtel；　sir。'
　
　'Good　God。　I　was　a　Lieutenant…Colonel。'　'And　I　a　Private；　sir。'　The　aides…de…camp；　the　young　aristocrats　that　Wellington　liked　as　his　messengers；　stared　curiously　at　the　scarred　face。　Not　many　men　fought　out　of　the　ranks。　Hogan　watched　the　General。　He　was　being　genial　to　Sharpe；　not　because　the　Rifleman　had　once　saved　his　life；　but　because　he　suspected　that　in　Sharpe　he　had　found　an　ally　against　the　Engineers　caution。　Hogan　sighed　inwardly。　Wellington　knew　this　man。　The　General　looked　round　the　room。　'A　chair　for　Captain　Sharpe？'
　
　'Lieutenant　Sharpe；　sir。'　Sharpe's　words　were　almost　a　challenge；　certainly　bitter；　but　the　General　ignored　them。　'Sit　down；　sit　down。　Now；　tell　us　about　the　breaches。'　Sharpe　told　them；　not　awed　by　the　pany；　but　he　added　little　to　Fletcher's　acc