Send Me Safely Back Again (Napoleonic War 3) by Goldsworthy Adrian

Author:Goldsworthy, Adrian [Goldsworthy, Adrian]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780297866657
Publisher: Hachette Littlehampton
Published: 2012-08-08T16:00:00+00:00

17

Hanley waited in the hall of the house occupied by the general’s headquarters. It was cool, and that was something, for the heat of the day was oppressive and Pritchard Jones had kept the battalion at drill throughout the long morning.

‘The general bids you attend upon him,’ the colonel had said to him afterwards, his big mouth and wide face once again split into an impish grin. ‘Whatever he asks, refuse at all costs. Spit in his eye if necessary. I have already lost too many officers to spare another to the whim of our commander-in-chief.’

An ensign and a lieutenant had collapsed on the march and had to be left behind. Captain Grant had made it to Abrantes by sheer willpower alone, for the man looked more and more like a moving skeleton and could not keep his food down. He was now in the hospital. Wickham, presuming on distant acquaintance, had secured himself a place as an additional ADC to General Hill of the Second Division.

Hanley waited, sitting on a chair with its back against the wall. A tall clock noisily ticked the seconds away as nothing happened. The noise from the street was more muted, with muffled voices, and then for a good ten minutes the maniacal screams of the ungreased axles of local ox carts.

A servant in civilian clothes came past and offered him a glass of water, waited for him to drain it, and then carried the empty vessel away. This excitement did not last long, but it was reassuring that at least someone had noticed his presence.

The clock ticked on and Hanley waited. He presumed his summons had something to do with the business of Espinosa, although perhaps there was simply a need for someone able to speak Spanish. The pride so many of his fellows took in being unable to understand any language other than their own continued to baffle him.

He wondered about learning Welsh, and that kept him occupied for a good five minutes before he decided that the opportunity to practise it would be too rare for true accomplishment.

The clock ticked on and so he had to accept the fact that time was passing. There was no other evidence of this. Hanley was tired, and had the chair not been so uncomfortable he suspected that he would have fallen asleep.

A cavalry officer appeared from one of the rooms along the corridor, nodded affably to him and then went on his way.

The clock informed him that another ten minutes passed before a captain in the jacket of the Foot Guards came from the same room.

‘Lieutenant Hanley?’

Hanley stood up.

‘Please follow me. I must apologise for the wait. We are all rather on the hop today.’ He led Hanley up the stairs and along another corridor. Rather ominously there were three chairs in a row outside the grand double doors to what was presumably one of the main rooms of the house.

‘If you would like to sit, they will call for you in a few minutes.

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