Sharpe’s Fortress [181-011-4.2] By: Bernard Cornwell

know your business better than I do. God knows why they need an

engineer here at all! Probably to be decorative, eh? Still, I’ll make

myself useful. I thought I might map the escarpment. Hasn’t been

done, you see. Of course, Pinckney, if you need advice, just ask away,

but I’ll probably be at sixes and sevens groping for an answer.” He

beamed at the delighted Pinckney, then looked at the rough country

through which the road led.

“This is fine landscape, isn’t it? Such a relief after the plains. It

reminds me of Scotland.”

“There are tigers here, Major,” Sharpe said.

“And there’s all kinds of fierce things in Scotland too, Sharpe. I was

once posted to Fort William and might as well have been in darkest

China! It was worse than Newfoundland. And speaking of America,

Sharpe, that young lady you sent me has travelled there. Extraordinary

thing to do, I thought, and I advised her to abandon the whole wretched

idea. There are bears, I told her, fierce bears, but she wouldn’t be

persuaded.”

“Simone, sir?” Sharpe asked, at first not believing his ears, then

feeling a dreadful premonition.

“A charming creature, I thought. And to be widowed so young!”

Stokes tutted and shook his head.

“She went to a fortune teller, one of those naked fellows who make

funny faces in the alley by the Hindu temple, and says she was advised

to go to a new world. Whatever next, eh?”

“I thought she was waiting for me, sir,” Sharpe said.

“Waiting for you? Good Lord, no. Gone to Louisiana, she says. She

stayed in my house for a week I moved out, of course, to stop any

scandal and then she travelled to Madras with Mrs. Pennington.

Remember Charlotte Pennington? The clergyman’s widow? I can’t think

the two of them will get along, but your friend said the fortune teller

was adamant and so she chose to go.” The Major was eager to give

Sharpe the rest of the news from Seringapatam. The armoury was closing

down, he said, now that the frontier of the British-held territory was

so much farther north, but Stokes had kept himself busy dismantling the

town’s inner fortifications.

“Very ill made, Sharpe, disgraceful work, quite disgraceful. Walls

crumbled to the touch.”

But Sharpe was not listening. He was thinking of Simone. She had

gone! By now she was probably in Madras, and maybe already on board a

ship. And she had taken his jewels. Only a few of them, true, but

enough. He touched the seam of his jacket where a good many of the

Tippoo’s other jewels were hidden.

“Did Madame Joubert leave any message?” he asked Stokes when the Major

paused to draw breath. What did he hope, Sharpe wondered, that Simone

would want him to join her in America?

“A message? None, Sharpe. Too busy to write, I daresay. She’s a

remarkably wealthy woman, did you know? She bought half the raw silk

in town, hired a score of bearers and off she went. Every officer in

town was leaving a card for her, but she didn’t have the time of day

for any of them. Off to Louisiana!” Stokes suddenly frowned.

“What is the matter, Sharpe? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.

You’re not sickening, are you?”

“No, no. It’s just I thought she might have written.”

“Oh! I see! You were sweet on her!” Stokes shook his head.

“I feel for you, Sharpe, ‘pon my soul, I do, but what hope could you

have? A woman with her sort of fortune doesn’t look at fellows like

us! “Pon my soul, no. She’s rich! She’ll marry high, Sharpe, or as

high as a woman can in French America.”

Her sort of fortune indeed! Simone had no fortune, she had been

penniless when Sharpe met her, but he had trusted her. God damn the

Frog bitch! Stolen a small fortune.

“It doesn’t matter,” he told Stokes, but somehow it did. Simone’s

betrayal was like a stab to the belly. It was not so much the jewels,

for he had kept the greater part of the plunder, but the broken

promises. He felt anger and pity and, above all, a fool. A great

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