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d gone past； shouted at the pany to stand easy and then peered again at Sharpe's musket。
'You'll not find 'owt wrong with it； Sarge； ' Sharpe said。
Hakeswill； still standing at attention； did an elaborate about turn； his right boot thumping down to the ground。 'Did I hear me give you permission to speak； Sharpie？'
'No； Sarge。 '
'No； Sarge。 No； you did not。 Flogging offence that； Sharpie。 ' Hakeswill's right cheek twitched with the involuntary spasm that disfigured his face every few seconds and the vehement evil of the face was suddenly so intense that the whole Light pany momentarily held its breath in expectation of Sharpe's arrest； but then the thumping discharge of the enemy cannon rolled across the countryside and the heavy ball splashed and bounced and tore its way through a bright…green patch of growing rice； and the violence of the harmless missile served to distract Hakeswill who turned to watch as the ball rolled to a stop。 'Poor bloody shooting； ' Hakeswill said scathingly。 'Heathens can't lay guns； I dare say。 Or maybe they're toying with us。 Toying！' The thought made him laugh。 It was not； Sharpe suspected； the anticipation of excitement that had brought Sergeant Obadiah Hakeswill to this state of near joviality； but rather the thought that a battle would cause casualties and misery； and misery was the Sergeant's delight。 He liked to see men cowed and frightened； for that made them biddable； and Sergeant Hakeswill was always at his happiest when he was in control of unhappy men。
The three officers had stopped their horses at the head of the column and now used telescopes to inspect the distant ridge which was clouded by a ragged fringe of smoke left from the last discharge of the enemy cannon。 'That's our Colonel； boys； ' Hakeswill announced to the 33rd's Light pany； 'Colonel Arthur Wellesley himself； God bless him for a gentleman； which he is and you ain't。 He's e to see you fight； so make sure you do。 Fight like the Englishmen you are。 '
'I'm a Scot； ' a sour voice spoke from the rear rank。
'I heard that！ Who said that？' Hakeswill glared at the pany； his face twitching uncontrollably。 In a less blithe mood the Sergeant would have ferreted out the speaker and punished him； but the excitement of pending battle persuaded him to let the offence pass。 'A Scot！' he said derisively instead。 'What is the finest thing a Scotsman ever saw？ Answer me that！' No one did。 'The high road to England； that's what。 Says so in the scriptures； so it must be true。 ' He hefted Sharpe's musket as he looked down the waiting ranks。 I shall be watching you； ' he snarled。 'You ain't none of you been in a proper fight before； not a proper fight； but on the other side of that bleeding hill there's a horde of black…faced heathens what can't wait to lay their filthy hands on your womenfolk； so if so much as one of you turns his back I'll have the skin off the lot of you！ Bare bones and blood； that's what you'll be。 But you does your duty and obeys your orders and you can't go wrong。 And who gives the orders？'
The Sergeant waited for an answer and eventually Private Mallinson offered one。 'The officers； Sergeant。 '
'The officers！ The officers！' Hakeswill spat his disgust at the answer。 'Officers are here to show us what we are fighting for。 Gentlemen； they are。 Proper gentlemen！ Men of property and breeding； not broken potboys and scarlet…coated pickpockets like what you are。 Sergeants give the orders。 Sergeants is what the army is。 Remember that； lads！ You're about to go into battle against heathens and if you ignore me then you'll be dead men！' The face twitched grotesquely； its jaw wrenched suddenly sideways； and Sharpe； watching the Sergeant's face； wondered if it was nervousness that had made Hakeswill so voluble。 'But keeps your eyes on me； lads； ' Hakeswill went on； 'and you'll be right as trivets。 And you know why？' He cried the last word out in a high dramatic tone as he stalked down the Light pany's front rank。 'You know why？' he asked again； now sounding like some dissenting preacher ranting in a hedgerow。 'Because I cannot die； boys； I cannot die！' He was suddenly intense； his voice hoarse and full of fervour as he spoke。 It was a speech that all the Light pany had heard many times before； but it was remarkable for all that； though Sergeant Green； who was outranked by Hakeswill； turned away in disgust。 Hakeswill jeered at Green； then tugged at the tight constriction of the leather stock that circled his neck； pulling it down so that an old dark scar was visible at his throat。 'The hangman's noose； boys！' he cried。 'That's what marked me there； the hangman's noose！ See it？ See it？ But I am alive； boys； alive and on two feet instead of being buried under the sod； proof as never was that you needs not die！' His face twitched again as he released the stock。 'Marked by God； ' he finished； his voice gruff with emotion； 'that's what I am； marked by God！'
'Mad as a hare； ' Tom Garrard muttered。
'Did you speak； Sharpie！' Hakeswill whipped around to stare at Sharpe； but Sharpe was so palpably still and staring mutely ahead that his innocence was indisputable。 Hakeswill paced back down the Light pany。 'I have watched men die； better men than any of you pieces of scum； proper men； but God has spared me！ So you do what I says； boys； or else you'll be carrion。 ' He abruptly thrust the musket back into Sharpe's hands。 'Clean weapon； Sharpie。 Well done； lad。 ' He paced smartly away and Sharpe； to his surprise； saw that the scrap of rag had been neatly retied about the lock。
The pliment to Sharpe had astonished all the Light pany。 'He's in a rare good mood； ' Garrard said。
I heard that； Private Garrard！' Hakeswill shouted over his shoulder。 'Got ears in the back of me head； I have。 Silence now。 Don't want no heathen horde thinking you're frit！ You're white men； remember； bleached in the cleansing blood of the bleeding lamb； so no bleeding talking in the ranks！ Nice and quiet； like them bleeding nuns what never utters a sound on account of having had their papist tongues cut out。 ' He suddenly crashed to attention once again and saluted by bringing his spear…tipped halberd across his body。 'pany all present； sir！' he shouted in a voice that must have been audible on the enemy…held ridge。 'All present and quiet； sir！ Have their backs whipped bloody else； sir。 '
Lieutenant William Lawford curbed his horse and nodded at Sergeant Hakeswill。 Lawford was the Light pany's second officer； junior to Captain Morris and senior to the brace of young ensigns； but he was newly arrived in the battalion and was as frightened of Hakeswill as were the men in the ranks。 'The men can talk； Sergeant； ' Lawford observed mildly。 'The other panies aren't silent。 '
'No； sir。 Must save their breath； sir。 Too bleeding hot to talk； sir； and besides； they got heathens to kill； sir； mustn't waste breath on chit…chat； not when there are black…faced heathens to kill； sir。 Says so in the scriptures； sir。 '
'If you say so； Sergeant； ' Lawford said； unwilling to provoke a confrontation； then he found he had nothing else to say and so； awkwardly aware of the scrutiny of the Light pany's seventy…six men； he stared at the enemy…held ridge。 But