Sharpe's Fortress Part 26

"The late Mister Wall died of the fever," Torrance said to Sharpe, 'and in the Christian kindness of my heart I continue to employ his widow. Does that not speak well of my character?"

"If you say so, sir," Sharpe said.

"I see my attempt to play Cupid is not meeting with success," Torrance said.

"So, Sharpe, to business. Tomorrow morning I suggest you go to Deogaum, wherever the h.e.l.l that is."

"With the bullocks, sir?"

Torrance raised his eyebrows in exasperation.

"You are an officer, Sharpe, not a bullock driver. You don't prod rumps, you leave that to the natives. Go early. Ride there at dawn, and your first duty will be to find me quarters."

"I don't have a horse," Sharpe said.

"You don't have a horse? Don't have a horse? Good G.o.d alive, man, what b.l.o.o.d.y use are you? You'll just have to b.l.o.o.d.y well walk then. I shall find you in Deogaum tomorrow afternoon and G.o.d help you if you haven't found me decent quarters. A front room, Sharpe, where Dilip can conduct business. A large room for me, and a hole for Brick. I would also like to have a walled garden with adequate shade trees and a small pool."

"Where is Deogaum?" Sharpe asked.

"Northwards, sahib," Dilip answered.

"Close to the hills."

"Beneath Gawilghur?" Sharpe guessed.

"Yes, sahib."

Sharpe looked back to Torrance.

"Can I ask a favour of you, sir?"

Torrance sighed.

"If you insist."

"At Gawilghur, sir, I'd like permission to join the a.s.sault party."

Torrance stared at Sharpe for a long time.

"You want what?" he finally asked.

"I want to be with the attack, sir. There's a fellow inside, see, who killed a friend of mine. I want to see him dead."

Torrance blinked at Sharpe.

"Don't tell me you're enthusiastic! Good G.o.d!" A sudden look of terror came to the Captain's face.

"You're not a Methodist, are you?"

"No, sir."

Torrance pointed the hookah's mouthpiece towards a corner of the room.

"There is a linen press, Sharpe, d'you see it? Inside it are my clothes. Amidst my clothes you will find a pistol. Take the pistol, remove yourself from my presence, apply the muzzle to your head and pull the trigger. It is a much quicker and less painful way of dying."

"But you won't mind if I join the attack?"

"Mind? You're not, surely, labouring under the misapprehension that I care about your existence? You think I might mourn you, even after such a short acquaintance? My dear Sharpe, I fear I shall not miss you at all. I doubt I'll even remember your name once you're dead. Of course you can join the a.s.saulting party. Do what you like! Now I suggest you get some sleep. Not here, though, I like my privacy.

Find a tree, perhaps, and slumber beneath its sheltering branches.

Good night to you, Sharpe."

"Good night, sir."

"And don't let any moths in!"

Sharpe negotiated the muslin and slipped out of the door. Torrance listened to the footsteps go away, then sighed.

"A tedious man, Dilip."

"Yes, sahib."

"I wonder why he was made an officer?" Torrance frowned as he sucked on his hookah, then shook his head.

"Poor Naig! Sacrificed to a mere ensign's ambition. How did that wretched Sharpe even know to look in Naig's tent? Did he talk to you?"

"Yes, sahib," Dilip admitted.

Torrance stared at him.

"Did you let him look at the ledgers?"

"He insisted, sahib."

"You're a b.l.o.o.d.y fool, Dilip! A b.l.o.o.d.y, b.l.o.o.d.y fool. I should thrash you if I wasn't so tired. Maybe tomorrow."

"No, sahib, please."

"Oh, just b.u.g.g.e.r away off, Dilip," Torrance snarled.

"And you can go too, Brick."

The girl fled to the kitchen door. Dilip collected his ink bottle and sand-sprinkler.

"Shall I take the chitties now, sahib, for the morning?"

"Go!" Torrance roared.