“So you’re the fellow who smoked out Naig?” Huddlestone said to Sharpe
after a while.
“Didn’t take much doing, sir.”
“No one else did it, man! Don’t shy away from credit. I’m damned
grateful to you.”
“Couldn’t have done it without Sergeant Lockhart, sir.”
“Damned army would come to a stop without Eli, ain’t that so?” the
Colonel said, and Lockhart, his mouth full of egg, just grinned.
Huddlestone turned back to Sharpe.
“So they gave you to Torrance?”
“Yes, sir.”
“He’s a lazy bugger,” Huddlestone said vengefully. Sharpe, astonished
at the open criticism, said nothing.
“He’s one of my own officers,” Huddlestone went on, ‘and I confess I
wasn’t sorry when he asked to be given duty with the bullock train.”
“He asked, sir?” Sharpe found it curious that a man would prefer to be
with the baggage when he could be in a fighting unit.
“His uncle is grooming him for a career in the Company,” Huddlestone
said.
“An uncle in Leadenhall Street. Know what Leaden-hall Street is,
Sharpe?”
“Company offices, sir?”
“The very same. The uncle pays him an allowance, and he wants Torrance
to get some experience in dealing with bhinjarries. Got it all planned
out! A few years in the Company’s army, another few trading in spices,
then home to inherit his uncle’s estate and his seat in the Court of
Directors. One day we’ll all be tugging our forelocks to the lazy
bugger. Still, if he wants to run the baggage train it’s no skin off
our bums, Sharpe. No one likes the job, so Torrance is welcome to it,
but my guess is that you’ll be doing most of his work.” The Colonel
frowned.
“He arrived in India with three English servants! Can you believe it?
It ain’t as if servants are hard to find here, but Torrance wanted the
cachet of white scullions. Two of ’em died of the fever, then Torrance
had the nerve to say that one of them hadn’t earned the cost of the
voyage out and so he’s forcing the widow to stay on and pay the debt!”
Huddlestone shook his head, then gestured for his servant to pour more
tea.
“So what brings you here, Ensign?”
“On my way to Deogaum, sir.”
“He really came to beg his breakfast, Colonel,” Lockhart put in.
“And I’ve no doubt the Sergeant fed you before you came to steal my
victuals?” Huddlestone asked, then grinned.
“You’re in luck, Ensign.
We’re moving up to Deogaum today. You can ride with us.”
Sharpe blushed.
“I’ve no horse, sir.”
“Eli?” Huddlestone looked at Lockhart.
“I’ve got a horse he can ride, sir.”
“Good.” Huddlestone blew on his tea.
“Welcome to the cavalry, Sharpe.”
Lockhart found two horses, one for Sharpe and the other for Ahmed.
Sharpe, ever uncomfortable on horseback, struggled into the saddle
under the cavalry’s sardonic gaze, while Ahmed jumped up and kicked
back his heels, revelling in being back on a horse.
They went gently northwards, taking care not to tire the horses.
Sharpe, as he rode, found himself thinking about Clare Wall, and that
made him feel guilty about Simone Joubert, the young French widow who
waited for him in Seringapatam. He had sent her there with a
southbound convoy and a letter for his friend Major Stokes, and
doubtless Simone was waiting for Sharpe to return when the campaign
against the Mahrattas was over, but now he needed to warn her that he
was being posted back to England. Would she come with him? Did he
want her to come? He was not sure about either question, though he
felt obscurely responsible for Simone. He could give her a choice, of
course, but whenever Simone was faced by a choice she tended to look
limp and wait for someone else to make the decision. He had to warn
her, though. Would she even want to go to England? But what else
could she do? She had no relatives in India, and the nearest French
settlements were miles away.
His thoughts were interrupted at mid-morning when Eli Lockhart spurred
alongside his horse.
“See it?”
“See what?”
“Up there!” Lockhart pointed ahead and Sharpe, peering through the
dust haze thrown up by the leading squadrons, saw a range of high