It was not a long list. Forrest had lost a money draft, but it had been found screwed up and thrown away in the mud. Whoever had slit the bags had not known what to do with the paper. There was a pair of snuffboxes gone, a gold chain that

Sharpe suspected had been looted from Ciudad Rodrigo; certainly the officer who reported that loss had been voluble about his poverty before the siege and remarkably silent afterwards. There was a set of gold scabbard furniture, too valuable to wear in battle, a pair of silver spurs and a pair of jeweled ear-rings that an embarrassed Lieutenant claimed was a present for his mother. Major Collett had lost a shaving mirror with a silver lid and a watch that he said was worth a small fortune. Most important of all was the Colonel's loss; the silver-filigree-framed portrait of his wife, the chinless, stern Jessica. The Colonel, rumor had it, was particularly fond of his wife; she had brought him a small fortune and the hunting rights for half of Leicestershire, and Colonel Windham was furious at the loss. Sharpe remembered the portrait sitting on the low table in Elvas.

Windham pointed the whip at Sharpe. 'Did you lose anything?

Sharpe shook his head. 'I've nothing here, sir. Everything he owned he carried on his back, except for the Patriotic Fund sword and the gold stolen at Almeida which were with his London agents.

'Where's your pack?

'With the others, sir.

'Is it marked?

Sharpe shook his head. 'No, sir.

'Fetch it, Sharpe.

It did not make sense. Was the Colonel accusing Sharpe of being the thief? If so, why ask Sharpe to fetch his own pack and, in so doing, have an opportunity of hiding the stolen goods? He found the pack, brought it back to the sheepfold. 'Do you want to search it, sir?

'Don't be a fool, Sharpe. You're an officer. And thereby, went the unspoken words, and despite all evidence to the contrary, a gentleman. 'I want to see how far our thief's net was cast. See if anything's missing, man!

Sharpe unbuckled the straps. The French pack was crammed with spare, dirty clothes; two spare locks for his rifle, and a half bottle of rum. He kept only one valuable in the pack and he did not need to look for it; it was gone. He looked up at Windham. I'm missing a telescope.

'Telescope? Anything special about it?

Something very special; the inlet brass plate that was inscribed In Gratitude. AW. 23 September 1803. It had gone. Sharpe pushed his hand desperately down through the clothes, but it was gone. Damn the thief! The telescope had been a gift from Wellington, a valued gift, and Sharpe cursed himself for leaving the pack with all the others. Yet they had been guarded. As the sheepfold with the officers' valuables had been guarded. Windham listened to Sharpe's description and nodded with satisfaction. 'That proves one thing.

'Proves? What, sir?

Windham smiled. 'I think we know where our thief comes from. Only one Company would know that pack! He pointed at Sharpe's gradually soaking clothes in their French pig-skin pack. He turned to Major Collett. 'Parade the Light Company, Jack. Search every man.

Sharpe tried to protest. 'Sir?

Windham whipped round on him, held out the crop accusingly. 'If you had stayed on guard, Sharpe, instead of gallivanting on the hill, this would not have happened. Stay out of it!

Hakeswill! It had to be Hakeswill! Sharpe knew it, and knew with an utter certainty that the accusation would never be proved. The theft of the telescope, at least, had to have been done in the afternoon because Sharpe had seen the glass in his pack at midday. The Light Company, or most of them, had been with Sharpe fighting the French, but he suddenly remembered the awkward, lumbering figure of the yellow-faced Sergeant hurrying back towards the baggage. The loot would all be hidden by now. And the guards whom Sharpe had left to watch the baggage would all have wandered to the hilltop to see the fight. He strapped up the buckles of his pack. Major Forrest waited till the other officers had filed out the gate. 'I'm sorry, Sharpe.

'I don't think it's the Light Company, sir.

'I meant about the telescope.

Sharpe grunted. Forrest was a decent man, always wanting others to be content. The Rifleman shrugged. 'It's gone, sir. It won't come back. Hakeswill was too clever a thief to be discovered.

Forrest shook his head unhappily. 'I don't believe it. And we used to be such a happy battalion! His face suddenly changed, became curious. 'Sharpe?

'Sir?

'Colonel Windham said you were married. I didn't like to contradict him.

'Did you, sir?

'Good Lord, no! Are you?

Sharpe shook his head. 'No, sir.

'But he said you told him you were.

Sharpe squatted back on his heels and smiled up at the Major. 'I did.

'For God's sake, why?

'Don't know, sir. It just came out.’

'But, Good Lord, Sharpe. It goes on your papers, it… " Forrest gave up. 'Why don't you tell him the truth?

'I quite like the idea, sir.

Forrest laughed. 'Well I never. I thought it was odd when he mentioned it, but I thought it could be true. You're such a private fellow, Sharpe.

'The way I'm going, sir, I probably will be soon.

'Don't be ridiculous. Forrest frowned. ‘There'll be a Captaincy soon. There nearly was this afternoon. Poor Sterritt tripped over and had a bayonet through his jacket.

Sharpe said nothing. He had shamelessly searched the survivors to see if any Captain was missing, but they all seemed to bear charmed lives and a remarkable freedom from disease in the foul weather. He stood up and slung his pack on one shoulder. Over the hill came the thumps of the French guns, a sound so common that men hardly noticed it any more. As common as the endless hissing of the rain.

Forrest looked over his shoulder, at the parading Light Company. This is sad, Sharpe. Very sad.

Windham paraded them and the Sergeant Major called each man forward in turn to have pouches, haversack and pack emptied on to a groundsheet. Another Sergeant went through the packets. Sharpe turned away. He found it sad, too, and unnecessary. He would have paraded them and given them ten minutes to come up with the thief or face the consequences; if, that is, he really believed that one of the Company was the thief. Forrest shook his head. 'He's very thorough, Sharpe.

'Not really, sir.’

'What do you mean?

Sharpe gave a tired smile. 'When I was in the ranks, sir, we had packs with false bottoms. He's not looking inside the shakoes. Anyway, a real thief won't have the stuff anymore.

'He's hardly had time to get rid of it.

'Sir. One of the women could have it by now, he could have sold it all to the Sutler for a few shillings and a bottle or two. It could be hidden. It won't be found. We're just wasting our time.

A horseman pulled up outside the sheepfold and saluted Forrest. 'Sir?

Major Forrest peered through the rain. 'Good Lord! Young Knowles! You've got a new horse!

'Yes, sir. Robert Knowles slid from the saddle and grinned at Sharpe. 'Now I'm not in your Company, I'm allowed to ride a horse. Do you like it?

Sharpe looked morosely at the beast. 'Very nice, sir.

Knowles stiffened on the 'sir'. He looked from Sharpe to Forrest. His smile went. 'Your gazette? He stammered at Sharpe.

'It was refused, sir.

'Stop it. Knowles was embarrassed. He had learned his trade from Sharpe, modeled himself on his old Captain, and now he had a Light Company of his own he tried to think, every hour, of how Sharpe would lead them. 'It's ridiculous!

Forrest nodded. 'The world's gone mad.

Knowles frowned, shook his head. 'I don't believe it!

Sharpe shrugged. 'It's true. He felt sorry for having embarrassed Knowles. 'How's the Company?

'Wet. They want to get on with the fighting. He shook his head again. 'So who's got your Company?