bcornwell.sharpescompany- 第7节

　
　Harper　seized　Sharpe　like　a　bag　of　oats；　took　one　breath；　and　threw　him　bodily　upwards。　It　was　like　being　lifted　by　a　mine　explosion。　Sharpe　flailed；　his　rifle　slipping　from　his　shoulder；　but　he　caught　it　by　the　barrel；　saw　the　casement's　edge　and　desperately　threw　out　his　left　hand。　It　held；　he　had　a　leg　on　the　stonework；　he　knew　the　French　muskets　were　firing　at　him；　but　he　had　no　time　to　think　of　that　for　a　man　was　running　at　him；　a　rammer　raised　to　strike　down；　and　Sharpe　struck　out　with　his　rifle。　It　was　a　lucky　effort。　The　brass…hiked　butt　caught　the　Frenchman　on　the　temple；　he　staggered　back；　and　Sharpe　had　dropped　over　the　casement；　found　his　feet；　and　the　huge　sword　rasped　out　of　the　scabbard　and　the　joy　was　there。
　
　The　gunners　had　been　hit　hard　by　the　seven　bullets　that　had　ricocheted　round　the　stone　emplacement。　Sharpe　could　see　bodies　lying　beneath　the　huge；　iron　barrel　of　what　he　recognized　as　a　siege　gun；　but　there　were　still　men　alive　and　they　were　ing　at　him。　He　swung　the　long　blade　at　them；　drove　them　back；　hacked　down　with　the　sword　and　felt　it　shudder　as　it　cleaved　a　skull。　He　screamed　at　them；　scaring　them；　slipped　on　new　blood；　tugged　the　blade　free　and　swung　again。　The　French　went　back。　They　outnumbered　him　six　to　one；　but　they　were　gunners　more　used　to　killing　at　a　distance　than　seeing　the　face　of　their　enemy　wild　over　a　naked　sword。　They　cowered　back　and　Sharpe　turned；　back　to　the　casement's　edge；　and　found　an　arm　clinging　desperately　to　the　stonework。　He　grabbed　the　wrist　and　heaved　a　Connaught　Ranger　into　the　sunken　gun…pit。　The　man's　eyes　were　bright　with　excitement。　Sharpe　yelled　at　him。　'Help　the　others　up！　Use　your　sling！'
　
　A　musket　ball　went　past　his　head；　clanging　off　the　barrel　of　the　gun；　and　Sharpe　whirled　to　see　the　familiar　uniforms　of　French　infantry　running　down　the　stone　stairs　to　rescue　the　gun。　He　went　for　them；　wild　with　the　madness　of　battle；　and　the　crazy　thought　whirled　in　his　head　that　he　wished　the　mean…faced　bastard　clerk　in　Whitehall　could　see　him　now。　Perhaps　then　Whitehall　would　know　what　its　soldiers　did；　but　there　was　no　time　for　the　thought　because　the　infantry　were　ing　down　the　narrow　space　beside　the　barrel。　He　leaped　at　them；　shouting　and　lunging　with　the　point　to　drive　them　back　and　he　knew　he　was　outnumbered。
　
　They　checked；　let　him　e；　and　then　countered　with　their　long　bayonets。　The　sword　was　not　long　enough！　He　swung　at　them；　smashing　bayonets　to　the　side；　but　another　came　past　his　swing　and　he　felt　the　blade　catch　in　his　greatcoat。　He　seized　the　barrel　with　his　left　hand；　pulled　the　man　off　balance　and　brought　the　great　brass　hilt　of　the　sword　down　on　his　head。　He　was　forced　back。　Another　bayonet　flickered　at　him；　making　him　dodge　wildly　so　that　he　slipped　against　the　siege　gun；　his　sword　was　whirling　uselessly；　flailing　for　balance；　and　he　saw　the　bayonets　above　him。　His　anger　was　useless　because　he　could　not　parry。
　
　The　shout　was　in　a　language　he　did　not　speak；　but　the　voice　was　Harper's　and　the　massive　Irishman　was　crunching　the　enemy　with　the　seven…barreled　gun　held　like　a　club。　He　ignored　Sharpe；　stepped　over　him；　laughed　at　the　French；　swung　at　them　and　went　forward　as　his　ancestors　had　gone　into　fine；　dawn…misted　battles。　He　chanted　the　same　words　that　his　ancestors　had；　and　the　Connaught　men　were　beside　him　and　no　troops　in　the　world　could　have　stood　against　their　anger　and　their　attack。　Sharpe　ducked　under　the　barrel　and　there　were　more　enemy；　fearful　now；　and　he　hacked　up　with　the　blade；　drove　them　back；　stabbed　with　it；　screaming　the　challenge。　The　French　scrambled　for　the　stone　stairs　in　their　rear；　and　the　crazed　men　in　red　and　green　coats　came　on；　stepping　over　the　bodies；　hacking　arid　clawing　at　them。　Sharpe　felt　the　blade　grate　on　a　rib　and　he　swung　it　clear；　and　suddenly　the　only　enemy　were　the　survivors　who　cowered　at　the　foot　of　the　stairs；　shouting　their　surrender。　They　had　no　hope。　The　men　of　Connaught　had　lost　friends　on　the　breach；　old　friends；　and　the　blades　were　used　in　short；　efficient　strokes。　The　bayonets　ignored　the　French　cries；　worked　swiftly；　and　the　casement　was　thick　with　the　smell　of　fresh　blood。
　
　'Up！'　There　were　still　enemies　on　the　wall；　enemies　that　could　fire　down　into　the　gun…pit；　and　Sharpe　climbed　the　stairs；　the　sword　a　streak　of　reflected　firelight　ahead　of　him；　and　suddenly　the　night　air　was　cool　and　clear　and　he　was　on　the　wall。　The　infantry　had　fallen　back　down　the　ramparts；　fearful　of　the　carnage　round　the　gun；　and　Sharpe　stood　at　the　stair's　head　and　watched　them。　Harper　joined　him；　with　a　group　of　red…jacketed　88th；　and　they　panted　so　that　their　breath　fogged。
　
　Harper　laughed。　'They've　had　enough！'
　
　It　was　true。　The　French　were　pulling　back；　abandoning　the　breach；　and　only　one　man；　an　officer；　tried　to　force　them　back。　He　shouted　at　them；　beat　at　them　with　his　sword；　and　then；　seeing　that　they　would　not　attack；　came　on　himself。　He　was　a　slim　man　with　a　thin；　fair　moustache　beneath　a　straight；　hooked　nose。　Sharpe　could　see　the　man's　fear。　The　Frenchman　did　not　want　to　make　a　solo　attack；　but　he　had　his　pride；　and　he　hoped　his　men　would　follow。　They　did　not。　Instead　they　called　to　him；　told　him　not　to　be　a　fool；　but　he　walked　on；　looking　at　Sharpe；　and　his　sword　was　ridiculously　slim　as　he　lowered　it　to　the　guard。　He　said　something　to　Sharpe；　who　shook　his　head；　but　the　Frenchman　insisted　and　lunged　at　Sharpe；　who　was　forced　to　leap　back　and　bring　up　the　huge　sword　in　a　clumsy　parry。　Sharpe's　anger　had　gone　in　the　cool　air；　the　fight　was　over；　and　he　was　irritated　by　the　Frenchman's　insistence。　'Go　away！　Vamos！'　He　tried　to　remember　the　words　in　French；　but　he　could　not。
　
　The　Irish　laughed。　'Put　him　over　your　knee；　Captain！'　The　Frenchman　was　little　more　than　a　boy；　ridiculously　young；　but　brave。　He　came　forward　again；　the　sword　level；　and　this　time　Sharpe　jumped　towards　him；　growled；　and　the　Frenchman　rocked　back。
　
　Sharpe　dropped　his　own　blade。　'Give　up！'
　
　The　answer　was　another　lunge　that　came　close　to　Sharpe's　chest。　He　leaned　back　and　beat　the　sword　aside。　He　could　feel　his　anger　returning。　He　swore　at　the　man；　jerked　his　head　down　the　ramparts；　but　still　the　fool　came　forward；　incensed　by　the　Irish　laughter；　and　again　Sharpe　had　to　parry　and　force　him　back。
　
　Harper　finished　the　farce。　He　had　worked　his　way　behind　the　officer　and；　as　the　Frenchman　looked　at　Sharpe　for　another　attack；　the　Sergeant　coughed。　'Sir？　Monsieur？'　The　officer　looked　round。　The　giant　Irishman　smiled　at　him；　came　forward　unarmed　and　very　slowly。　'Monsieur？'
　
　The　officer　nodded　to　Harper；　frowned；　and　said　something　in　French。　The　huge　Sergeant　nodded　seriously。　'Quite　right；　sir；　quite　right。　'　Then　a　giant　fist　traveled　from　some　place　low　down；　up；　and　straight　on　to　the　Frenchman's　chin。　He　crumpled；　the　Connaught　men　gave　an　ironic　cheer；　and　Harper　laid　the　senseless　body　beside　the　rampart。　'Poor　wee　fool。　'　He　grinned　at　Sharpe；　immensely　pleased　with　himself；　and　looked　over　towards　the　breach。　The　fight　still　went　on；　but　Harper　knew　his　part　in　the　assault　was　done；　and　well　done；　and　that　nothing　could　touch　him　this　night。　He　jerked　his　thumb　at　the　Connaught　Rangers　and　looked　at　Sharpe。　'Connaught　lads；　sir。　Good　fighters。　'
　
　'They　are。　'　Sharpe　grinned。　'Where's　Connaught？　Wales？'
　
　Harper　made　a　joke　at　Sharpe's　expense；　but　in　Gaelic；　so　that　he　was　forced　to　listen　to　the　Rangers'　good…humored　laughter。　They　were　in　good　spirits；　happy；　like　the　Sergeant　from　Donegal；　that　they　had　played　a　good　part　in　this　night's　fight；　a　part　that　would　make　a　fine　story　to　weave　through　the　long　winter　nights　in　some　unimaginable　future。　Harper　knelt　to　go　through　the　unconscious　Frenchman's　pockets　and　Sharpe　turned　to　look　at　the　breach。
　
　The　45th；　on　the　far　side；　were　dealing　with　the　second　gun。　They　had　found　planks；　abandoned　in　the　trench；　and　thrown　them　over　to　the　casement　lip　and　Sharpe　watched；　admiringly；　as　the　Nottinghamshire　men　charged　across　the　perilous　path　and　took　their　long　bayonets　to　the　gun　crew。　The　growl　had　bee　a　whoop　of　victory　and　the　dark　beast　in　the　ditch　uncoiled　across　the　undefended　breach　and　swarmed　past　the　t