An Ill Wind by David Donachie Read Free Book Online Page B

Pearce found himself looking at the top of the bicorn hat; clearly the man was examining the possibilities. Suddenly the head came back up again, the voice sharp. ‘You have one hour, monsieur, to abandon your position.’ The other fellow started to protest, but Short-arse held up his hand to silence him. ‘You will, however, leave the guns. My colleague here can have the glory of capturing them. Do you agree?’
    ‘Yes, you have my word on that, but do you not wish that honour for yourself?’
    The eyes lit up then, as did the face, and the accent, which Pearce could still not place, was even morepronounced. ‘What are a few cannon, monsieur, when I have kicked the whole allied force out of Toulon?’
    ‘Would your name be Buonaparte, by any chance?’
    The question was wasted, for the recipient had already spun on his feet to limp away, leaving Pearce to wonder if he might be carrying a wound, calling over his shoulder, ‘One hour.’
     
    Driffield looked positively petulant when Pearce told him what had happened. ‘It is a disgrace to leave the guns, sir.’
    ‘It would be even more of a disgrace to die here to save them and I would point out to you we have no way to remove them.’
    ‘Let us at least spike them, Mr Pearce.’
    ‘Mr Driffield, I take responsibility and I gave my word. You may tell your fellow marines that I ordered you to leave them.’
    ‘What about the powder?’ Driffield demanded, pointing towards the planking-covered trench in which the barrels had been stored to protect them from heated shot, on top of which, for added security, was laid the ammunition for the cannon, barrels of grape and piles of round shot.
    ‘It was not mentioned, so you can salve your military conscience by blowing it up. Now, I must get my fellows out of here immediately, given they will take a lot longer to get back to the hospital jetty than your own. Strike your tents and gather your equipment, Mr Driffield, but do not delay, for there is a fellow over yonder who isdying to thrust his sword blade into someone. Michael, Charlie, Rufus, Devenow, gather up our charges and let’s be on our way.’
    He looked at the nipper with the broken arm. ‘You, lad, run back and tell them we are coming and they must, at all costs, wait for us.’
    Driffield delayed giving the orders that would see the camp struck; instead he watched as the stumbling patients made their way up the hill that blocked off the small fishing port from the neck of the peninsula, keeping his eye on them as they wended their way up the twisting path, waiting till Pearce and his party were well out of earshot. Then he called to his sergeant.
    ‘As soon as they can no longer see us, I want the shot moved and the cannon hauled over the powder store.’
    ‘Did I not hear the officer say they was to be left, sir?’
    ‘They are being left, sergeant. They are not being spiked or having their wheels smashed.’ The look that got was, to the marine officer’s mind, larded with potential insubordination, and his response was harsh. ‘We cannot expect a bluecoat to comprehend the loss of honour attendant on abandoning the guns to the enemy. I intend, when I rejoin my fellows, to be able to look them in the eye.’
    ‘We’ll not have time to do that and break the camp of all of our equipment.’
    ‘Equipment, sergeant, can be replaced. Honour, once lost, is gone for ever.’
     
    Getting the wounded from the hospital into the boats, given their numbers, would have been a hellish task if it had not been for the sailors from HMS
Hinslip
. With that natural ability British tars had to overcome obstacles, they had ordered some spars brought ashore and jury-rigged a hoist so that the more serious could be lowered to lay across the gunnels of the ship’s boats. On
Hinslip
itself, another hoist was ready to haul them inboard, as steady as you like, so that excessive movement did not aggravate their wounds.
    Emily Barclay was only made aware that her husband had