e to put the blade between his teeth。 He would drop it！ He was nervous； but then； instead of bugles； there were shouts and the trampling of feet and the moment had e。
The survivors of the Third Division erupted from the darkness。 The carcasses flowed down； and the cannon in the small casde bastion shredded the attack； but they were screaming defiance and the ladders swayed in the ungainly curves until they slammed against the castle wall。
'Up！' He jammed the blade between his teeth and gripped the rungs。 Musket balls came down and then he heard his own guns firing； the Lieutenant calling the orders； and he was climbing。 The great； irregular granite blocks were going past his face； and he scrambled up； the fear a living thing beside him； and he concentrated on keeping the sabre between his teeth。 His jaw ached。 It was such a stupid tiling to worry about because he was nearing the top and he wanted to laugh and he was afraid； so afraid； because the enemy would be waiting； and he felt his knuckles graze against the granite as the slope of the ladder took him close to the wall。 He took the sabre from his mouth。
'Stop firing！' The Lieutenant stared up and held his breath。
Knowles had to use his fist； wrapped round the sabre handle； as a prop to help him up the last rungs。 It was easier than climbing with the blade in his teeth。 He suddenly felt foolish； as if someone might have laughed at him for climbingg a ladder with a sabre in his mouth； and he wondered why the mind chose such irrelevant and stupid thoughts at such： moment。 He could hear the guns； the screams； the crash of another ladder； and the man behind pushed at him； and the top was there！ This was the moment of death and his fear harrowed him； but he pushed over the top and saw the bayonet e sawing towards him。 He leaned to one side； tottering on the ladder； and swung his right arm for balance and； to his surprise； saw the sabre at the end of the arm cleave down into the enemy's head。 A hand pushed him from behind； his feet were still pedaling at the rungs； but he had run out of ladder！ He was falling forward on to the body of the dead man； and another enemy was ing； so he rolled and twisted and knew he was there。 He was on the ramparts！ There was a keening in his throat； that he did not hear； a sound of insensate fear； and he thrust up with the sabre； into the man's groin； and the scream winged into the night and the blood pulsed on to Knowles's wrist； and the second man was with him。
They had done it！ They had done it！ The men were ing up the ladder； and he was filled with a joy that he did not know existed。 He was on his feet； his blade bloodied to the hilt； and the enemy were running towards them； muskets outstretched； but the fear was conquered。 There was something odd about the Frenchmen's uniforms。 They were not blue and white。 Knowles had a glimpse of red turnbacks and yellow facings； but then he was jumping forward； remembering that Sharpe always attacked； and the sabre twisted a bayonet aside； flicked up； and he had the man in the throat。 'Light pany！ To me！ Light pany！'
A musket volley shattered along the parapet； but he was still alive and more of his men were joining him。 He heard the enemy shouting orders。 German！ These were Germans！ If they were half as good as the more numerous Germans who fought for Wellington； but he would not feel fear； only victory。 He led his men down the wall； bayonets out。 The enemy were few and outnumbered； and every yard of wall that Knowles's men cleared was another yard where ladders could safely be climbed and the casde parapet filled with the red uniforms。
The Germans died hard。 They defended each casement； each stairway； but they stood no chance。 The castle had been denuded of troops； only a thin battalion left； but that battalion fought grimly。 Each minute that they saved on the battlements was another minute for the central reserves to reach the casde； so they fought on； despising the odds； and screamed as they fell from the parapets； chopped down by the redcoats； and fought till the wall was lost。
Knowles felt the joy of it。 They had won the unbelievable victory。 They had climbed a rock hill and a casde and they had won！ He pounded his men on their backs； hugged them； laughed with them； forgave them all their crimes； because they had done it。 It did not matter that the vast casde buildings would still have to be cleared； the dark； treacherous courtyards； because no one now could take this battlement from them。 The British had won the city's highest point and from here they could fight downhill； into the streets； down to the main breach； and Knowles knew he would reach Teresa first and he would see； some time in the night； the gratitude on Sharpe's face。 He had done it。 They had done it。 And for the first time that night； it was British cheers dial startled the air in Badajoz。
The cheers could not be heard at the breaches。 The casde was a long journey away； at least a mile's ride by the time a horseman had circled the floodwaters； and it would be minutes yet before the messenger would be dispatched。 Picton waited。 He had heard the bell strike eleven as he saw his first； magnificent men cross the parapet； and he waited； listening to the sounds of battle； to know if they had won or were being chopped to pieces in the castle yards。 He heard the cheers； stood up in his stirrups and roared his own； then turned to an aide…de…camp。 'Ride； man； ride！' He turned to another staff officer and clapped the man mightily on the back。 'We've proved him wrong！ Damn his eyes！ We did it！'
He chuckled； anticipating Wellington's reaction when the news arrived at midnight。
Anger would take a man through a breach； sheer passion； but a small idea helped。 It was not much of an idea； hopeless even； deserving the name Forlorn； but it was all Sharpe had； and so he stared at the ravelin that stretched so invitingly towards the third； unsullied breach。 There was no point in trying to outrace the grapeshot across its flat； diamond surface。 Any man who tried was flicked hopelessly away； contemptuous meat to the gunners' fire。 Yet the third breach was the newest； and the French had been given small time to entrap it； and Sharpe could see； through the sifting smoke； that the Chevaux de Prise on the new breach's summit was too short。 There was a gap at the right hand side； a gap three men could pass abreast； and the only problem was reaching the gap。 There was no approach in the ditch。 The fires still seethed； white hot and violent； and the only path was across the ravelin。 They must climb the ravelin； brave the top； and jump into the ditch； and it must be done at the ravelin's edge； close to the flames； where the diamond shape narrowed and the fatal journey was short。
He had no right to take the pany on the journey。 This was a Forlorn Hope； born of despair and nurtured by pride； and it belonged to the volunteer； to the foolish。 He knew he did not have to go himself； but he wanted no dead man's shoes。 He had waited； letting the violence of the last attack spend itself in the ditch； and there was now a kind of truce before the breaches。 As long as the British stayed quiet； harmless behind the ravelin； the gunners let them be。 Only when men came into the firelight； towards the breaches； did the muzzles spout flame and the grapeshot crease the ditch floor。 Back in the darkness； down the glacis； Sharpe could hear orders being called。 Another attack was ing； the last reserves of the Division being fed into the ditch； and that was the moment； the hopeless moment； when the feeble idea； based only on the narrowing width of the ravelin； must be tried。 He turned to his men and drew the sword； the blade a great streak in the night； and the steel hissed as he swung it to the point at the firelight。
'I'm going there。 There is one more attack； just one； and then it's all over。 No one's touched that central breach； and that's where I'm going。 Over the ravelin； down into the ditch； and I'll probably break my bloody legs because there are no ladders or hay…bags； but that's where I'm going。' The faces were pale； staring at him as they squatted on the slope。 'I'm going because the French are lau