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lk regiment。 'That's ours！' the man beside Sharpe exulted； then seemed to gurgle。 His eyes opened wide with astonishment； he gave Sharpe a puzzled； almost reproachful look； then slowly toppled backwards into one of the foetid puddles。 Blood seeped onto his pale yellow facings。 Up on the outer wall a mass of tiger…striped men charged to recapture the Sultan Battery and their courage gave new heart to the defenders between the walls who gave a cheer and fired a ragged volley at the redcoats edging towards the Water Gate。The dying redcoat shuddered。 His panion fired； then swore。 'Bastards！' He hesitated for a half…second； then broke out of the tunnel's shadow and sprinted back to the west； back towards the rest of his rades who had been advancing towards the tunnel。 The Tippoo had made up his mind。 He would ignore the palanquin and try to reach his horse； and so he had ordered his bodyguard to clear the tunnel's entrance。 That bodyguard now charged； screaming； and Sharpe； knowing that he was trapped； splashed back into the inner Water Gate's lingering smoke。 He stopped halfway； turned； and blasted the musket towards the mouth of the tunnel where he could see the leading men of the Tippoo's bodyguard silhouetted against the daylight。 A man screamed。 Sharpe had one loaded musket left。
Musket balls thumped into the teak doors behind him。 He fired his last musket； then reloaded with a practised； but desperate； haste。 He was waiting for men to appear in the dense smoke of the tunnel； but none came。 Sharpe knew he was going to die here； but he was bloodily determined that he would die in pany。 Let the bastards e。 He was frightened； and in his fear he was crooning a mad tuneless song without words； but his fear did not stop him from loading a second musket。 Still no one came to kill him and so he snatched up a third musket and bit the top off another cartridge。
The bodyguard had still not e into the tunnel。 Sharpe； in his fear； had not heard the sound of battle growing at the end of the tunnel； but now； crouching and listening； he became aware of the shouts and volleys。 The men of the I2th were pouring musket fire into the Tippoo's bodyguard and those men were staying close to their monarch and returning the fire。 Redcoats attacked from the west and more fired from me Sultan Battery。 The attempt to recapture the battery had failed； and a mix of sepoys and redcoats were now forcing their way along the outer northern wall。 The ferocity of theirfire had forced the Tippoo's bodyguard to crouch close about their monarch； and Sharpe had been given precious seconds in which to load his muskets。 He had three charged guns now。 Three bullets； and he wanted one of them for the heathen bastard who had poured salt on his back； the bastard who wore a great ruby in his hat。 He again crept forward through the smoke； willing the Tippoo to e into the tunnel。
But the Tippoo was once again fighting off the encroaching infidels。 Allah had given him this last chance to kill redcoats； and so he was taking the jewelled hunting rifles from his aides and calmly shooting at the men who had so nearly captured the inner Water Gate。 His aides were shouting at him to flee through the tunnel and find a horse； but the Tippoo had been granted this final moment of battle and it seemed to him that he could not miss with any of his shots； and with each redcoat thrown back he felt a fierce joy。 Then a new rush of sepoys and redcoats burst along the outer wall and those men came swarming down the ramp by the outer Water Gate to add their muskets to those threatening the Tippoo's shrinking bodyguard。
And as those new enemies appeared； the Tippoo's charmed luck turned。 One bullet struck his thigh and another punched his left arm to leave a splash of blood bright on the white linen sleeve。 He staggered； but kept his balance。 It seemed that not a man of his bodyguard was left unwounded； but a score of them still lived and could walk。 In a moment； though； the enemy must triumph and the Tippoo knew it was time to bid his city farewell。 'We go；' he told his relieved aides； and limped towards the tunnel。 His left arm was numb； as though it had been hit by a giant hammer； and there was a horrid pain in his left leg。
A shot crashed out of the Water Gate's smoky gloom and the man leading the Tippoo's escape was snatched backwards from the tunnel entrance with blood misting up from his shattered skull。 Against the bright sunlight that glowed at theend of the tunnel the fine droplets of blood looked like powdered rubies。 The man fell； screamed and thrashed。 The Tippoo； stunned by the suddenness of the bodyguard's unexpected death； paused； and behind him a terrible roar sounded as the assaulting redcoats closed in on the mouth of the tunnel。 The bodyguard turned back to face their attackers with fixed bayonets。
'Go； Your Majesty！' A wounded aide thrust a rifle into the Tippoo's hands； then dared to push his monarch into the tunnel。 The Tippoo allowed himself to be pushed into the shadows； but stopped close to the mouth of the tunnel and from there he stared into the vaporous darkness。 Was an enemy there？ He could not see because of the smoke。 Behind him were the harsh sounds of volleys and curses as his bodyguard died； and as they died their bodies were making a terrible barricade that protected the Tippoo； but what waited in front of him？ He peered； reluctant to go forward into the shit…stinking gloom； but then the aide snatched at the Tippoo's elbow and dragged him deeper into the darkness。 The few surviving bodyguards were defending the tunnel with bayonets； stabbing at the crazed redcoats who tried to scramble across the bloody pile of corpses。
'Open the gate！' the aide shouted； then he saw the shadow within the shadow at the end of the tunnel and he dropped to one knee and took aim with his jewelled rifle。 He fired； and the golden tiger…mask doghead snapped forward onto the fiizzen。 Sharpe threw himself to one side just as the gun fired； heard the bullet snick the wall and ricochet into the teak door； then he saw the aide pull a long pistol from his sash。 Sharpe fired first； the boom of his musket echoing in the tunnel like doom's diunder。 The ball hurled the aide back into a deep pool； and suddenly there was only the Tippoo and Sharpe left。
Sharpe stood and grinned at the Tippoo。 'Bastard；' he said； seeing the glint of light reflected from the ruby in his enemy'shelmet。 'Bastard；' he said again。 He had one loaded musket left。 The Tippoo was holding a rifle。 Sharpe stepped forward。
The Tippoo recognized the hard； bloody face in the gloom。 He smiled。 Fate was most strange； he thought。 Why had he not killed this man when he had the chance？ Behind him his bodyguard was dying and the victorious redcoats were plundering their bodies； while in front of him was freedom and life； except for one man to whom the Tippoo had shown mercy。 Just one man。
'Bastard；' Sharpe said again。 He wanted to be close when he killed the Tippoo； close enough to make certain of the man's death。
Behind the Tippoo the bright daylight was dulled by the swirling gunsmoke where dying men gasped and victorious men looted。 'Mercy is God's prerogative； not man's；' the Tippoo said in Persian；