all? Stop him? Capture him?’
‘That’s all, but don’t underestimate him. Capture him and give him to me and I promise you Colonel Leroux will not see daylight again till this war’s over. We’ll lock him up so tight he’ll wish he hadn’t been born.’
Sharpe thought about it. It would not be so difficult. The Sixth Division had sealed off the forts, and even in an attack the cordon of men would still ring the wasteland. All that would be left was for Sharpe, or one of his Company, to recognise Leroux among the prisoners. He grinned at Hogan, wanting to cheer him up. ‘Consider it done.’
‘If you’re doing it, Richard, I will.’ It was a nice compliment.
They had ridden close to the hill on which the spectators had gathered and Sharpe looked to his right to see a grinning figure coming towards them on a fiery, well-ridden horse. Even one-handed Lord Spears was a finer horseman than Sharpe could hope to be. His Lordship was in high spirits.
‘Michael Hogan! By the Good Lord! You’re looking dull as a parson, sir! Where are your Irish spirits? Your carefree, devil-may-care attitude to life’s daily toil?’
Hogan looked with some fondness at the cavalryman. ‘Jack! How’s the arm?’
‘Totally mended, sir. As good as the day it was born. I’m keeping it in a sling so you won’t send me back to work. Richard Sharpe! I watched your Company at work. They were hungry!’
‘They’re good.’
‘And you’re both invited to a pique-nique. Now.’ He grinned at them.
‘A what?’ Hogan frowned.
‘A pique-nique. It’s a French word, but I suppose we’ll all be using it soon. For you peasants who don’t speak French it means a simple, light repast taken in the open air. We’ve got chicken, ham, spiced sausages, some delicious cake, and best of all some wine. We, of course, are myself and La Marquesa de Casares el Grande y Melida Sadaba. You’re both specifically invited.’
Hogan smiled. It seemed that Sharpe accepting the responsibility for Leroux had lifted a weight from his shoulders. ‘La Marquesa! It’s time I rubbed shoulders with the aristocracy!’
‘What about me?’ Spears looked aggrieved. ‘Am I not noble enough for you? Good Lord! When my ancestors ate the forbidden fruit in Eden they insisted on having it served on a silver platter. You’re coming?’ This last he addressed to Sharpe.
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