Cornwell, Bernard 01 Sharpe’s Tiger-Serigapatam-Apr-May 1799

Hakeswill sniffed. ‘No good, sir, I’ll warrant that.’

Morris uncovered the arrack and took a sip. ‘First the bastard is summoned to Harris’s tent, then he runs, and now Baird says we’ll see him again and wants him kept alive! Why?’

‘He’s up to no good, sir,’ Hakeswill said. ‘He took his woman and vanished, sir. Ain’t no general who can condone that behaviour, sir. It’s unforgivable, sir. The army’s going to the dogs, sir.’

‘I can’t disobey Baird,’ Morris muttered.

‘But you don’t wants Sharpie back here either, sir,’ Hakes-will said fervently. ‘A soldier who’s a general’s pet? He’ll be given a sergeant’s stripes next!’ The thought of such an affront struck Hakeswill momentarily speechless. His face quivered with indignation, then, with a visible effort, he controlled

himself. ‘Who knows, sir,’ he suggested slyly, ‘but the little bastard might be reporting on you and me, sir, like the traitor what he is. We don’t need snakes in our bosoms, sir. We don’t want to disturb the happy mood of the company, not by harbouring a general’s pet, sir.’

‘General’s pet?’ Morris repeated softly. The Captain was a venal man and, though no worse than many, he nevertheless dreaded official scrutiny, but he was far too lazy to correct the malfeasances half concealed in the closely penned columns of the pay books. Worse, Morris feared that Sharpe could somehow reveal his complicity in the false charge that had resulted in Sharpe’s flogging, and though it seemed impossible for a mere private to carry that much weight in the army, so it seemed equally impossible that a major general should make a special errand to discuss that private. There was something very odd going on, and Morris disliked strange threats. He merely asked for the quiet life, and he wanted Sharpe out of it. ‘But I can’t leave those words off the form,’ he complained to Hakeswill, gesturing at the new addition on Sharpe’s page.

‘Don’t need to, sir. With respect, sir. Ain’t no form being distributed here, sir, not in the 33rd, sir. Don’t need a form, do we? We knows what the bugger looks like, we does, so they won’t give us no form, sir. They never do, sir. So I’ll let it be known that if anyone sees Sharpie they’re to oblige the army by putting a goolie in his back.’ Hakeswill saw Morris’s nervousness. ‘Won’t be no fuss, sir, not if the bugger’s in Seringapatam and we’re pulling the bloody place to pieces. Kill him quick, sir, and that’s more than he deserves. He’s up to no good, sir, I can feel it in my waters, and a bugger up to no good is a bugger better off dead. Says so in the scriptures, sir.’

‘I’m sure it does, Sergeant, I’m sure it does,’ Morris said, then closed the Punishment Book. ‘You must do whatever you think is best, Sergeant. I know I can trust you.’

“You do me honour, sir,’ Hakeswill said with feigned emotion. ‘You do me honour. And I’ll have the bastard for you, sir, have him proper dead.’

In Seringapatam.

‘What in God’s name did you think you were doing, Sharpe?’ Lawford demanded furiously. The Lieutenant was much too angry to go along with the pretence of being a private, and, besides, the two men were now alone for the first time that day. Alone, but not unguarded, for though they were standing sentry in one of the south wall cavaliers there were a dozen men of Gudin’s battalion within sight, including the burly Sergeant, called Rothiere, who watched the two newcomers from the next cavalier along. ‘By God, Private,’ Lawford hissed, ‘I’Il have you flogged for that display when we’re back! We’re here to rescue Colonel McCandless, not to kill him! Are you mad?’

Sharpe stared south across the landscape, saying nothing. To his right the shallow river flowed between shelving green banks. Once the monsoon came the river would swell and spread and drown the wide flat rocks that dotted its bed. He was feeling more comfortable now, for Doctor Venkatesh had placed some salve on his back which had taken away a lot of the pain. The doctor had then put on new bandages and warned Sharpe that they must not be dampened, but ought to be changed each day until the wounds healed.

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