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it was still important to let the army know that the Colonel had been captured。 McCandless was not a vain man； but he knew his own value； and he had left some careful instructions that might retrieve some of the damage of his capture。 Those instructions offered a chance for the army to rescue McCandless； and that dangerous expedient was now the Scotsman's only hope of passing on Appah Rao's message。 'Go！' McCandless roared as loudly as he could。
The Havildar was caught between his duty to his men and his duty to obey McCandless's orders。 He hesitated； and two of the pursuers swerved aside to pounce on him。 That made up his mind。 He clapped his spurs back； charged the pursuers； touched the rein at the last moment and swung his sabre as he went past the two men。 The blade sliced across the nape of the nearer man's neck and then the Havildar curved away northwards； galloping free while the rest of the enemy gathered about the survivors for the kill。
McCandless threw down his pistol and carbine； drew his heavy claymore and walked towards the melee。 He never reached it； for an enemy officer detached himself from the clash of sabres and turned his horse to meet the Scotsman。 The Mysorean officer sheathed his sabre； then mutely held out his right hand for McCandless's blade。 Behind him the sabres and lances worked briefly； then the small fight was over and McCandless knew that his escort； all but the Havildar； was dead。 He looked at the horseman above him。 'This sword；' he said bitterly； 'belonged to my father and to his father。' He spoke in English。 'This sword；' McCandless said； 'was carried for Charles Stuart at Culloden。'The officer said nothing； just held his hand out； his eyes steady on McCandless。 The Scotsman slowly reversed his blade； then held the hilt upwards。 The Mysorean officer took it and seemed surprised by the claymore's weight。 'What were you doing here？' the officer asked in Kanarese。
'Do you speak English？' McCandless asked in that tongue； determined to hide his knowledge of India's languages。
The officer shrugged。 He looked at the old claymore then slid it into his sash。 His men； their horses white with sweat； gathered excitedly to stare at the captured heathen。 They saw an old man and some wondered if they had captured the enemy's General； but the captive seemed to speak no language any of them knew and so his identity would have to wait。 He was given one of his dead escort's horses and then； as the sun climbed towards its daily furnace heat； McCandless was taken west towards the Tippoo's stronghold。
While behind him the vultures circled and at last； sure that nothing lived where the dust and flies had settled on the newly made corpses； flew down for dieir feast。
It took two days to convene the court martial。 The army could not spare the time in its march for the business to be done immediately and so Captain Morris had to wait until the great ponderous horde was given a half…day's rest to allow the straggling herds to catch up with the main armies。 Only then was there time to assemble the officers and have Private Sharpe brought into Major Shee's tent which had one of its sides brailed up to make more space。 Captain Morris laid the charge and Sergeant Hakeswill and Ensign Hicks gave evidence。
Major John Shee was irritable。 The Major was irritable at the best of times； but the need to stay at least apparently sober had only shortened his already short Irish temper。 He did not； in truth； enjoy manding the 33rd。 Major Shee suspected； when he was sober enough to suspect anything；that he did the job badly and that suspicion had given rise to a haunting fear of mutiny； and mutiny； to Major Shee's befuddled mind； was signalled by any sign of disrespect for established authority。 Private Sharpe was plainly a man who brimmed over with such disrespect and the offence with which he was charged was plain and the remedy just as obvious； but the court proceedings were delayed because Lieutenant Lawford； who should have spoken for Sharpe； was not present。 'Then where the devil is he？' Shee demanded。
Captain Fillmore； mander of the fourth pany； spoke for Lawford。 'He was summoned to General Harris's tent； sir。'
Shee frowned at Fillmore。 'He knew he was supposed to be here？'
'Indeed； sir。 But the General insisted。'
'And we're just supposed to twiddle our thumbs while he takes tea with the General？' Shee demanded。
Captain Fillmore glanced through the tent's open side as if he hoped to see Lawford hurrying towards the court martial； but there were only sentries to be seen。 'Lieutenant Lawford did ask me to assure the court； sir； that Private Sharpe is a most reliable man；' Fillmore said； fearing that he was not doing a very good job of defending the unfortunate prisoner。 'The Lieutenant would have spoken most forcibly for the prisoner's character； sir； and begged the court to grant him the benefit of any doubt。'
'Doubt？' Shee snapped。 〃What doubt is diere？ He struck a sergeant； he was seen doing it by two officers； and you think there's doubt？ It's an open…and…shut case！ That's what it is； open and shut！'
Fillmore shrugged。 'Ensign Fitzgerald would also like to say something。'
Shee glared at Fitzgerald。 'Not much to say； Ensign； I trust？'
'Whatever it might take； sir； to prevent a miscarriage ofjustice。' Fitzgerald； young and confident； stood and smiled at his manding officer and fellow Irishman。 'I doubt we've a better soldier in the regiment； sir； and I suspect Private Sharpe was given provocation。'
'Captain Morris says not；' Shee insisted； 'and so does Ensign Hicks。'
'I cannot contradict the Captain； sir；' Fitzgerald said blandly； 'but I was drinking with Timothy Hicks earlier that evening； sir； and if his eyes weren't crossed by midnight then he must possess a belly like a Flanders cauldron。'
Shee looked dangerously belligerent。 'Are you accusing a fellow officer of being under the influence of liquor？'
Fitzgerald reckoned that most of the 33rd's mess was ever under the influence of arrack； rum or brandy； but he also knew better than to say as much。 'I'm just agreeing with Captain Fillmore； sir； that we should give Private Sharpe the benefit of the doubt。'
'Doubt？' Shee spat。 'There is no doubt！ Open and shut！' He gestured at Sharpe who stood hatless in front of his escort。 Flies crawled on Sharpe's face； but he was not allowed to brush them away。 Shee seemed to shudder at the thought of Sharpe's villainy。 'He struck a sergeant in full view of two officers； and you think there's doubt about what happened？'
'I do； sir；' Fitzgerald declared forcibly。 'Indeed I do。'
Sergeant Hakeswill's face twitched。 He watched Fitzgerald with loathing。 Major Shee stared at Fitzgerald for a few seconds； then shook his head as though questioning the Ensign's sanity。
Captain Fillmore tried one last time。 Fillmore doubted the evidence of Morris and Hicks； and he had never trusted Hakeswill； but he knew Shee could never be persuaded to take the word of a private against that of two officers and a sergeant。 'Might I beg the court；' Fillmore said respectfully； 'to suspend judgment until Lieutenant Lawford can speak for the prisoner？''What can Lawford say； in the name of God？' She