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datatime: 2022-11-26 16:46:07 Author:jWGhOxpY

Harper kicked the fallen beam. 'Perhaps they can rig another telegraph, sir?'

'You want to go?'

Lossow stood up, wiped blood from his hands. 'We must get out of here!'

Sharpe turned round, blood flecking his uniform, and his face grim. 'We'll get out. With or without him, we'll get out.'

Harper looked over the ramparts, at the drifting smoke. 'Just four shots. That's good shooting.' There was a reluctant respect in his voice.

'Ja. Not easy, my friend.'

'Sunday, sir.'

'Ja. Not easy, my friend.'

'Sunday, sir.'

Lossow swore in German, stood up, flinched as he put his weight on his left leg. Sharpe looked at him. 'Are you - hurt?'

'Yes, sir.'

Sharpe turned to him. 'We must persuade Cox to let us out.'

The Irishman grinned. 'Wouldn't worry, sir. It doesn't offend me and if it offends Him then He's plenty of opportunity to punish you.'

'Yes, sir.'

Sharpe felt ashamed. This was Harper's religion. 'I'm sorry.'

Lossow's heels clicked in the side aisle; he came from behind a pillar, blinked in the sunlight. 'Where is he?' He disappeared again.

The Sergeant pointed to the head. 'Rest of him's over the wall, sir. Poor wee thing.'

'Sweet Jesus.' Harper stood up, 'Are you all right, sir?'

Lossow stood up, wiped blood from his hands. 'We must get out of here!'

'Amen to that, sir.' Harper had infinitely more patience.

Harper looked over the ramparts, at the drifting smoke. 'Just four shots. That's good shooting.' There was a reluctant respect in his voice.

'Sweet Jesus.' Harper stood up, 'Are you all right, sir?'

Sharpe felt ashamed. This was Harper's religion. 'I'm sorry.'

'You don't sound hopeful, my friend?'

The Sergeant pointed to the head. 'Rest of him's over the wall, sir. Poor wee thing.'

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