cloud of filthy smoke. The sepoys cheered. The explosion had seemed
small to Sharpe, but when the smoke and dust cleared he could see that
the ridge now had a deep notch through which the road could climb to
the next high valley.
The pioneers went to shovel the loosened earth away and Sharpe sat
again. Ahmed squatted beside him.
“What am I going to do with you?”
Sharpe asked.
“I go to England,” Ahmed said carefully.
“You won’t like it there. Cold as buggery.”
“Cold?”
“Freezing.” Sharpe mimicked a shiver, but plainly it meant nothing to
the Arab boy.
“I go to England,” Ahmed insisted.
A half-hour later the new engineer appeared just beneath Sharpe.
He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, rode a grey horse and was trailed by
three servants who led pack mules laden with luggage amongst which
Sharpe could see a tripod, a surveyor’s level and a vast leather tube
that he guessed held a telescope. The engineer took off his hat and
fanned his face as he rounded the last bend. “Pon my soul,” he said
cheerfully, ‘but thank God the horse does the climbing and not me.”
Pinckney had come back to greet the engineer and held out his hand as
the blue-coated Major slid from his saddle.
“Captain Pinckney, sir,” he introduced himself.
“Pinckney, eh?” the white-haired engineer said cheerfully.
“I knew a Pinckney in Hertfordshire. He made plough shares and damn
fine ones too.”
“My uncle Joshua, sir.”
“Then you must be Hugh’s boy, yes? An honour!” He shook Pinckney’s
hand vigorously.
“Major John Stokes, at your service, though I don’t suppose you need
me, do you? You must have built more roads than I ever did.” Major
Stokes looked towards Sharpe who had stood and was now smiling.
“Good God in His blessed heaven,” Stokes said, ‘it can’t be! But it
is! My dear Sharpe! My dear Mister Sharpe. I heard all about your
commission! Couldn’t be more pleased, my dear Sharpe. An officer,
eh?”
Sharpe smiled broadly.
“OnJ} an ensign, sir.”
“Every ladder has a first rung, Sharpe,” Stokes said in gentle reproof
of Sharpe’s modesty, then held out his hand.
“We shall be mess mates, as they say in the Navy. Well, I never! Mess
mates, indeed! And with a Pinckney too! Hugh Pinckney forges mill
gears, Sharpe. Never seen a man make better-toothed wheels in all my
life.” He clasped Sharpe’s hand in both of his.
“They grubbed me out of Seringapatam, Sharpe.
Can you believe that? Told me all the other engineers had the pox, and
summoned me here just in time to discover that poor Elliott’s dead.
’34
I suppose I shouldn’t complain. It’s awfully good for my promotion
prospects.” He let go of Sharpe’s hand.
“Oh, and by the way, I travelled north with some of your old comrades!
Captain Charles Morris and his company. Not the most charming
creature, is he?”
“Not one of my favourites, sir,” Sharpe admitted. Good God! Bloody
Morris was here? First Hakeswill, then Morris!
“He didn’t want to come,” Stokes said, ‘but higher powers deemed that I
had to be protected from the ungodly, so they insisted on an infantry
escort.” He turned as a rattle of gunfire sounded higher up the
escarpment.
“Bless my soul! Is that musketry?”
Ticquet line, sir,” Pinckney explained.
“The enemy harasses us, but they’re not thrusting home.”
“They should, they should. A battalion of skirmishers in these hills
could keep us at bay for a month! Well, I never, Sharpe! An
ensign!”
The Major turned back to Pinckney.
“Sharpe and I ran the armoury at Seringapatam for four years.”
“You ran it, sir,” Sharpe said.
“I was just your sergeant.”
“Best sergeant I ever had,” Stokes told Pinckney enthusiastically.
“And it’s not “sir”‘ he turned to Sharpe ‘but John.” He grinned at
Sharpe.
“They were four good years, eh? Best we’ll ever have, I daresay. And
here you are now, an officer! My dear fellow, I couldn’t be more
overjoyed.” He sniffed the air.
“Been blowing things up, Pinckney?”
“Cutting through that ridge, sir. I trust you don’t mind that we
didn’t wait for you?”
“Mind? Why should I mind? You go ahead, dear fellow. I’m sure you