Бернард Корнуэлл: Sharpe's Ransom

This place is full of rubbish." It took a few moments to edge through the dusty, dark clutter, but at last Sharpe pushed the stuffed pike aside and crouched beside the old hatch. He put an ear to the wood, listened for a second, then angrily pulled the pistol from his coat pocket. "Let's go to war, " he told Malan, then shoved the hatch open.

LUCILLE screamed when Sergeant Challon shoved her down on to the bed. She had thought she would be safe now the villagers were outside the chateau. She suspected Richard had somehow persuaded them to be there, though what else he might have arranged she did not know, but now she feared she would never find out for Sergeant Challon had pursued her upstairs and dragged her into the bedroom. "You burned me! " he had snarled at her, then struck her round the face with his wounded hand. Lucille screamed, then froze as Challon pointed his pistol between her eyes. He smiled when he saw her fear, then he tucked the pistol under his arm and began unbuckling his belt. "Boney gave us lots of practice with the ladies, " he said. "Italian skirts, Spanish skirts, Portuguese skirts, we hauled 'em all up. So get yourself ready. I ain't a man who likes to be kept waiting." The noise of the high hatch opening made Challon look up, but he had no time to pluck the pistol from under his arm before Sharpe's boots raked down his face. Challon twisted away, falling under the impact, but before he could recover there was one hand stifling his mouth and another was holding a pistol at his neck. He was hauled to his feet and there, right in front of him, stood a sergeant of the Imperial Guard with a most unfriendly smile. "Hold him, Major, " Malan said.

Sharpe held Challon tight, Malan grinned, then kicked the dragoon between the legs. «Jesus!» Sharpe said in awe, as he let Challon fall. "He won't walk for a month! " He grinned at Lucille. "Where's Patrick?" "With Marie, next door, she gestured to the adjoining bedroom. Sharpe gave her a hand and helped her from the bed. "You know Monsieur Malan?" "I am very glad to see you, Monsieur Malan, " Lucille said fervently. "What's going on up there?" Maitre Lorcet shouted from the bottom of the stairs. He had heard the thump of Sharpe jumping on Challon, and the bigger thump as Malan followed. Sharpe opened the door. "Lorcet? This Is Major Sharpe. I've got four of your men prisoner, I've got my wife back, I've got my child, and there never was any gold. And now I'm coming down the stairs and you can have a fight if you want one, but I've no mind to kill anyone at Christmas. Put the ruby on the table, Lorcet, and unlock the door. I've got a lot of guests coming for a Christmas drink, and I want you and your scum out of here." He dragged Challon down the stairs, then locked all the intruders inside the chapel. They could repent of their sins there until morning, when Sharpe would deal with them, but for now he had more important tasks. He had to light the fire in the big hall, for the folks who had been singing to hide the noise that Sharpe and Malan made breaking into the chateau were all chilled to the bone. So he lit the fire and Jacques Malan went down to the cellar and hauled up dusty bottles that had been stored there since before the Revolution, and Sharpe, listening to the laughter, and wondering how Lucille had managed to find so much food in the house, reckoned he was staying in Normandy after all. It was Christmas, he had neighbours at last, and he was safe at home.