“Just happened to be passing them, sir,” Sharpe said, ‘when they caught
fire.”
Torrance gazed at Sharpe, plainly not believing a word. He shook his
head sadly.
“You look very old to be an ensign, Sharpe?”
“I was a sergeant two months ago, sir.”
Torrance adopted a look of pretended horror.
“Oh, good God,” he said archly, ‘good God alive. May all the spavined
saints preserve us. You’re not telling me you’ve been made up from the
ranks?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sweet suffering Jesus,” Torrance said. He lay his head back on the
hammock’s pillow and blew a perfect smoke ring that he watched wobble
its way up towards the ceiling.
“Having confidential information as to the identity of the thief, I
took steps to apprehend him. You will notice, Sharpe, that I am giving
you no credit in this report?”
“No, sir?”
“Indeed I am not. This report will go to Colonel Butters, an
appallingly bombastic creature who will, I suspect, attempt to take
some of the credit for himself before passing the papers on to Arthur
Wellesley who, as you may know, is our commander. A very stern man,
our Arthur. He likes things done properly. He plainly had a very
stern governess in his nursery.”
“I know the General, sir.”
“You do?” Torrance turned his head to look at Sharpe.
“Socially, perhaps? You and he dine together, do you? Pass the time
of day, do you? Hunt together, maybe? Drink port? Talk about old
times? Whore together, perhaps?” Torrance was mocking, but there was
just an edge of interest in his voice in case Sharpe really did know
Sir Arthur.
“I mean I’ve met him, sir.”
Torrance shook his head as though Sharpe had been wasting his time.
“Do stop calling me “sir”. It may be your natural subservience,
Sharpe, or more likely it is the natural air of superiority that
emanates from my person, but it ill becomes an officer, even one
dredged up from the ranks. A search of his tents, Dilip, secured the
missing items. I then, in accordance with general orders, hanged the
thief as an example. I have the honour to be, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Two thousand muskets are still missing, sir,” Sharpe said.
“Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to call you “sir”.”
“If it pleases you to grovel, Sharpe, then do so. Two thousand muskets
still missing, eh? I suspect the bugger sold them on, don’t you?”
“I’m more interested in how he got them in the first place,” Sharpe
said.
“How very tedious of you,” Torrance said lightly.
“I’d suggest talking to Sergeant Hakeswill when he gets back,” Sharpe
said.
“I won’t hear a word spoken against Obadiah,” Torrance said.
“Obadiah is a most amusing fellow.”
“He’s a lying, thieving bastard,” Sharpe said vehemently.
“Sharpe! Please!” Torrance’s voice was pained.
“How can you say such wicked things? You don’t even know the
fellow.”
“Oh, I know him, sir. I served under him in the Havercakes.”
“You did?” Torrance smiled.
“I see we are in for interesting times.
Perhaps I should keep the two of you apart. Or perhaps not. Brick!”
The last word was shouted towards a door that led to the back of the
commandeered house.
The door opened and the black-haired woman slipped past the muslin.
“Captain?” she asked. She blushed when she saw Torrance was naked,
and Torrance, Sharpe saw, enjoyed her embarrassment.
“Brick, my dear,” Torrance said, ‘my hookah has extinguished itself.
Will you attend to it? Dilip is busy, or I would have asked him.
Sharpe?
May I have the honour of naming you to Brick? Brick? This is Ensign
Sharpe. Ensign Sharpe? This is Brick.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” the woman said, dropping a brief curtsey
before she stooped to the hookah. She had clearly not told Torrance
that she had met Sharpe earlier.
“Ma’am,” Sharpe said.
“Ma’am!” Torrance said with a laugh.
“She’s called Brick, Sharpe.”
“Brick, sir?” Sharpe asked sourly. The name was utterly unsuited to
the delicate-featured woman who now deftly disassembled the hookah.
“Her real name is Mrs. Wall,” Torrance explained, ‘and she is my
laundress, seamstress and conscience. Is that not right, little
Brick?”
“If you say so, sir.”
“I cannot abide dirty clothes,” Torrance said.