"I don't have family," she said, 'so where would I go?"

"You're an orphan?"

She nodded.

"I got work as a house girl in Torrance's uncle's house.

That's where I met Charlie. He were a footman. Then Mr. Henry, that's his uncle, see, said we should join the Captain's household. Charlie became Captain Torrance's valet. That was a step up. And the money was better, only we weren't paid, not once we were in Madras. He said we had to pay our pa.s.sage."

"What the devil are you doing, Sharpe?" Torrance had come into the garden.

"You're not supposed to clean boots! You're an officer!"

Sharpe tossed the boot at Torrance. "I keep forgetting, sir."

If you must clean boots, Sharpe, start with your own. Good G.o.d, man! You look like a tinker!"

"The General's seen me looking worse," Sharpe said.

"Besides, he never did care what men looked like, sir, so long as they do their job properly."

"I do mine properly!" Torrance bridled at the implication.

"I just need more staff. You tell him that, Sharpe, you tell him! Give me that hat, Brick! We're late."

In fact Torrance arrived early at the General's tent and had to kick his heels in the evening sunshine.

"What exactly did the General say when he summoned me?" he asked Sharpe.

"He sent an aide, sir. Captain Campbell. Wanted to know where the supplies were."

"You told him they were coming?"

"Told him the truth, sir."

"Which was?"

"That I didn't b.l.o.o.d.y well know where they were."

"Oh, Christ! Thank you, Sharpe, thank you very much." Torrance twitched at his sash, making the silk fall more elegantly.

"Do you know what loyalty is?"

Before Sharpe could answer the tent flaps were pushed aside and Captain Campbell ducked out into the sunlight.

"Wasn't expecting you, Sharpe!" he said genially, holding out his hand.

Sharpe shook hands.

"How are you, sir?"

"Busy," Campbell said.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want."

"He does," Torrance said.

Sharpe shrugged.

"Might as well," he said, then ducked into the tent's yellow light as Campbell pulled back the flap.

The General was in his shirtsleeves, sitting behind a table that was covered with Major Blackiston's sketches of the land bridge to Gawilghur. Blackiston was beside him, travel-stained and tired, while an irascible-looking major of the Royal Engineers stood two paces behind the table. If the General was surprised to see Sharpe he showed no sign of it, but instead looked back to the drawings.

"How wide is the approach?" he asked.

"At its narrowest, sir, about fifty feet." Blackiston tapped one of the sketches.

"It's wide enough for most of the approach, two or three hundred yards, but just here there's a tank and it squeezes the path cruelly. A ravine to the left, a tank to the right."

"Fall to your death on one side," the General said, 'and drown on the other. And doubtless the fifty feet between is covered by their guns?"

"Smothered, sir. Must be twenty heavy cannon looking down the throat of the approach, and G.o.d knows how much smaller metal.

Plenty."

Wellesley removed the inkwells that had been serving as weights so that the drawings rolled up with a snap.

"Not much choice, though, is there?" he asked.

"None, sir."

Wellesley looked up suddenly, his eyes seeming very blue in the tent's half light.

"The supply train is twelve hours late, Captain. Why?"

He spoke quietly, but even Sharpe felt a shiver go through him.

Torrance, his c.o.c.ked hat held beneath his left arm, was sweating.

"I. I.. ." he said, too nervous to speak properly, but then he took a deep breath.

"I was ill, sir, and unable to supervise properly, and my clerk failed to issue the chitties It was a most regrettable occurrence, sir, and I can a.s.sure you it will not happen again."

The General stared at Torrance in silence for a few seconds.

"Colonel Wallace gave you Ensign Sharpe as an a.s.sistant? Did Sharpe also fail to obey your orders?"

"I had sent Mister Sharpe ahead, sir," Torrance said. The sweat was now pouring down his face and dripping from his chin.