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this heat。 Saps him。 Do relax; Sergeant。'
'Thank you; sir。' Sergeant Hakeswill's stiff posture unbent a fraction。
Baird smiled at Morris。 'You lost two men this week; Captain; did you not?'
'Two men?' Morris frowned。 That bastard Sharpe had run; taking his bibbi with him; but who else? 'Oh!' Morris said。 'You mean Lieutenant Lawford; sir?''The very fellow。 A lucky fellow too; eh? Carrying the despatch to Madras。 It's quite an honour for him。' Baird shook his head ruefully。 'Myself; I'm not so certain that little scrap the other day was worth a despatch; but General Harris insisted and your Colonel chose Lawford。' Baird was using the excuse the army had invented to explain Lawford's disappearance。 The excuse had provoked some resentment in the 33rd for Lawford was one of the most junior of the battalion's lieutenants and most men who carried despatches could expect a promotion as a reward for the task which; in turn; was usually only given to men who had distinguished themselves in battle。 It seemed to Morris; as to every other officer in the battalion; that Lawford had neither distinguished himself nor deserved promotion; but Morris could hardly admit as much to Baird。
'Very glad for him;' Morris managed to say。
'Found a replacement; have you?' Baird asked。
'Ensign Fitzgerald; sir;' Morris said。 'Lieutenant Fitzgerald now; sir; by brevet; of course。' Morris managed to sound disapproving。 He would have much preferred Ensign Hicks to have received the temporary promotion; but Hicks did not have the hundred and fifty pounds needed to purchase up from ensign to lieutenant; whereas Fitzgerald did; and if Lawford's reward for carrying the despatches was a promotion to captain then Fitzgerald must replace him。 In Morris's opinion the newly breveted Lieutenant was altogether too easy with the men; but a money draft was a money draft; and Fitzgerald was the monied candidate and so had been given the temporary rank。
'And the other fellow you lost?' Baird asked; trying hard to sound casual。 'The private? In the book; is he?'
'He's in the book all right; sir。' The Sergeant answered for Morris。 'Hakeswill; sir;' he introduced himself。 'Sergeant Obadiah Hakeswill; sir; man and boy in the army; sir; and at your mand; sir。''What was the rogue's name?' Baird asked Morris。
'Sharpe; sir。' Hakeswill again answered。 'Richard Sharpe; sir; and as filthy horrible a little piece of work as ever I did see; sir; in all my born days; sir。'
'The book?' Baird asked Morris; ignoring Hakeswill's judgement。
Morris frantically searched the mess on his desk for the Punishment Book; at the back of which were kept the army's official forms for deserters。 Hakeswill eventually found it; and; with a crisp gesture; handed it to the General。 'Sir!'
Baird leafed through the front pages; finally discovering the entry for Sharpe's court martial。 'Two thousand strokes!' the Scotsman said in horror。 'It must have been a grave offence?'
'Struck a sergeant; sir!' Hakeswill announced。
'You; perhaps?' Baird asked drily; noting the Sergeant's swollen and bruised nose。
'Without any provocation; sir;' Hakeswill said earnestly。 'As God is my judge; sir; I never treated young Dick Sharpe with anything but kindness。 Like one of my own children he was; sir; if I had any children; which I don't; at least not so as I knows of。 He was a very lucky man; sir; to be let off at two hundred lashes; and you see how he rewards us?' Hakeswill sniffed indignantly。
Baird did not respond; but just turned to the last page of the book where he found the name Richard Sharpe filled in at the top of the printed form; and beneath it Sharpe's age which was given as twenty…two years and six months; though Captain Morris; if indeed it had been Morris who had filled in the form; had placed a question mark beside the age。 Sharpe's height was reported at six feet; only four inches less than Baird himself who was one of the tallest men in the army。 'Make or Form' was the next question; to which Morris had answered 'well built'; and there followed a list of headings: Head; Face; Eyes; Eyebrows; Nose; Mouth; Neck; Hair;Shoulders; Arms; Hands; Thighs; Legs; and Feet。 Morris had filled them all in; thus offering a prehensive description of the missing man。 'Where Born?' was answered simply by 'London'; while besides 'Former Trade or Occupation' was written 'Thief。 The form then gave the date and place of desertion and offered a description of the clothes the deserter had been wearing when last seen。 The final item on the form was 'General Remarks'; beside which Morris had written 'Back scarred from flogging。 A dangerous man。' Baird shook his head。 'A formidable description; Captain;' the General said。
'Thank you; sir。'
'It's been distributed?'
'Tomorrow; sir。' Morris blushed。 The form should have been copied out four times。 One copy went to the General manding the army; who would have it copied again and distributed to every unit under his mand。 A second copy would go to Madras in case Sharpe ran there。 A third copy went to the War Office in London to be copied again and given to all recruiting officers in case the man succeeded in reaching Britain and tried to rejoin the army; while the last copy was supposedly sent to the man's home parish to alert his neighbours to his treachery and the local constables to his crime。 In Sharpe's case; there was no home parish; but once Morris caught up with his paperwork and the pany clerk had made the necessary copies; Sharpe's description would be broadcast throughout the army。 If Sharpe was then found in Seringapatam; which Baird suspected he would be; he was supposed to be arrested; but it was far more likely that he would be killed。 Most soldiers resented deserters; not because of their crime; but because they had dared to do what so many others never had the courage to try; and no officer would punish a man for killing a deserter。
Baird put the open book onto Morris's table。 'I want youto add a note under 〃General Remarks〃;' Baird told the Captain。
'Of course; sir。'
'Just say that it is vital that Private Sharpe be taken alive。 And that if he is captured he must be brought either to me or to General Harris。'
Morris gaped at Baird。 'You; sir?'
'Baird; B…A…I…R…D。 Major General。'
'Yes; sir; but。。 。' Morris had been about to ask what possible business a major general had with a deserter; then realized that such a question would never fetch a civil answer; so he just dipped a quill in ink and hurriedly added the words Baird had requested。 'You think we might see Sharpe again; sir?' he asked。
'I do hope so; Captain。' Baird stood。 'I even pray as much。 Now may I thank you for your hospitality?'
'Yes; sir; of course; sir。' Morris half stood as the General left; then dropped back onto his chair and stared at the words he had just written。 'What in God's name is all that about?' he asked when Baird was safely out of earshot。
Hakeswill sniffed。 'No good; sir; I'll warrant that。'
Morris uncovered the arrack and took a sip。 'First the bastard is summoned to Harris's tent; then he runs; and now Baird says we'll see him again and wants him kept alive! Why?'
'He's up to no good; sir;' Hakeswill said。 'H