Sharpe, doing the rounds in the darkest heart of the night, saw one window of the Quinta glowing with the glimmer of shuddering candlelight behind the wind-shaken shutters and he thought he heard a cry like an animal in distress from that upper floor, and for a fleeting second he was sure it was Kate’s voice, then he told himself it was his imagination or that it was just the wind shrieking in the chimneys. He went to see Hagman at dawn and found the old poacher was sweating, but alive. He was asleep and once or twice spoke a name aloud. „Amy,” he said, „Amy.” The doctor had visited the previous afternoon, he had sniffed the wound, shrugged, said Hagman would die, washed the injury, bandaged it and refused to take any fee. „Keep the bandages wet,” he had told Vicente who was translating for Sharpe, „and dig a grave.” The Portuguese lieutenant did not translate the last four words.
Sharpe was summoned to Colonel Christopher soon after sunrise and found the Colonel seated in the parlor and swathed in hot towels as Luis shaved him. „He used to be a barber,” the Colonel said. „Weren’t you a barber, Luis?”
„A good one,” Luis said.
„You look as if you could do with a barber, Sharpe,” Christopher said. „Cut your own hair, do you?”
„No, sir.”
„Looks like it. Looks like the rats got to it.” The razor made a slight scratching noise as it glided down his chin. Luis wiped the blade with a flannel, scraped again. „My wife,” Christopher said, „will have to stay here. I ain’t happy.”
„No, sir?”
„But she ain’t safe anywhere else, is she? She can’t go to Oporto, it’s full of Frenchmen who are raping anything that isn’t dead and probably things that are dead if they’re still fresh, and they won’t get the place under decent control for another day or two, so she must stay here, and I’ll feel a great deal more comfortable, Sharpe, if she’s protected. So you will guard my wife, let your wounded fellow recover, have a rest, contemplate God’s ineffable ways and in a week or so I’ll be back and you can go.”
Sharpe looked out of the window where a gardener was scything the lawn, probably the first cut of the year. The scythe slid through the pale blossoms blown from the wisteria. „Mrs. Christopher could accompany you south, sir,” he suggested.
„No, she bloody well can’t,” Christopher snapped. „I told her it’s too dangerous. Captain Argenton and I have to get through the lines, Sharpe, and we won’t make things easier for ourselves by taking a woman with us.” The true reason, of course, was that he did not want Kate to meet her mother and tell her of the marriage in Vila Real de Zedes’s small church. „So Kate will stay here,” Christopher went on, „and you will treat her with respect.” Sharpe said nothing, just looked at the Colonel, who had the grace to shift uncomfortably. „Of course you will,” Christopher said. „I’ll have a word with the village priest on our way out and make sure his people deliver food for you. Bread, beans and a bullock should do your fellows for a week, eh? And for God’s sake don’t make yourselves obvious; I don’t want the French sacking this house. There’s some damn fine pipes of port in the cellars and I don’t want your rogues helping themselves.”
„They won’t, sir,” Sharpe said. Last night, when Christopher had first told him that he and his men must stay at the Quinta, the Colonel had produced a letter from General Cradock. The letter had been carried around for so long that it was fragile, especially along the creases, and its ink was faded, but it clearly stated, in English and Portuguese, that Lieutenant-Colonel James Christopher was employed on work of great importance and enjoined every British and Portuguese officer to attend to the Colonel’s orders and offer him whatever help he might require. The letter, which Sharpe had no reason to believe was counterfeit, made it clear that Christopher was in a position to give Sharpe orders and so he now sounded more respectful than he had the previous evening. „They won’t touch the port, sir,” he said.
„Good. Good. That’s all, Sharpe, you’re dismissed.” „You’re going south, sir?” Sharpe asked instead of leaving. „I told you, we’re going to see General Cradock.” „Then perhaps you’d take a letter to Captain Hogan for me, sir?” „Write it quick, Sharpe, write it quick. I have to be off.” Sharpe wrote it quick. He disliked writing for he had never learned his letters properly, not school proper, and he knew his expressions were as clumsy as his penmanship, but he wrote to tell Hogan that he was stranded north of the river, that he was ordered to stay at the Quinta do Zedes and that, just as soon as he was released from those orders, he would return to duty. He guessed that Christopher would read the letter and so he had made no mention of the Colonel nor offered any criticism of his orders. He gave the letter to Christopher who, dressed in civilian clothes and accompanied by the Frenchman who was also out of uniform, left in mid-morning. Luis rode with them.
Kate had also written a letter, this one to her mother. She had been pale and tearful in the morning, which Sharpe put down to her imminent parting from her new husband, but in truth Kate was upset that Christopher would not let her accompany him, an idea the Colonel had brusquely refused to consider. „Where we are going,” he had insisted, „is exceedingly dangerous. Going through the lines, my dear one, is perilous in the extreme and I cannot expose you to such risk.” He had seen Kate’s unhappiness and taken both her hands in his. „Do you believe that I wish to part from you so soon? Do you not understand that only matters of duty, of the very highest duty, would tear me from your side? You must trust me, Kate. I think trust is very important in marriage, don’t you?”
And Kate, trying not to cry, had agreed that it was.
„You will be safe,” Christopher had told her. „Sharpe’s men will guard you. I know he looks uncouth, but he’s an English officer and that means he’s almost a gentleman. And you’ve got plenty of servants to chaperone you.” He frowned. „Does having Sharpe here worry you?”
„No,” Kate said, „I’ll just stay out of his way.”
„I’ve no doubt he’ll be glad of that. Lady Grace might have tamed him a little, but he’s plainly uncomfortable around civilized folk. I’m sure you’ll be quite safe till I return. I can leave you a pistol if you’re worried?”
„No,” Kate said, for she knew there was a pistol in her father’s old gun room and, anyway, she did not think she would need it to deter Sharpe. „How long will you be away?” she asked.
„A week? At most ten days. One cannot be precise about such things, but be assured, my dearest, that I shall hurry back to you with the utmost dispatch.