In Lisbon Market

"Yes, thanks, if you don't mind. G'bye Maggie!" He stopped to adjust his shoes. "My feet are killing. I were on march for several days and my boots near fell apart. These are the doctor's shoes! I have to send 'em back to him through the Medical Corps. What's that?" he asked, looking at the folded uniform.

"I don't mind at all." He waited as Perkins sorted his shoes out. "It's some French officer's uniform. he was brought in the other day, and I was on guard, wasn't I, and got told to find someone to clean it up for him. Though I don't know where he'd been fighting, but it was pretty much covered in blood."

He wondered if he should ask where Perkins had been marching, as nobody else had been anywhere, but hadn't Dan Hagman mentioned they did stuff for one of the General's officers?

"French officer... I think that's one of our Frenchies!" Perkins responded, looking at the jacket. "Probably some of our blood too! We brought up some Hussars coming up from Obidos. Right close it was, too. We were well outnumbered, but for the Portuguese irregulars. Youngish man, dark hair, speaks good English? Kind of nice manners?"

"Sounds like him." This was just getting stranger now. "Brought up some Hussars from Obidos? What were you doing all the way out there? And fighting, too." He smiled at the lad. "Haven't done any fighting meself since Vimeiro, last year, y'see. And if you ain't s'posed to answer me questions, don't worry about it."

And weren't Mister Sharpe and his men being attached to the 62nd, like Captain Vickery's company?

"Oh we were escorting some people, including this doctor whose shoes I'm wearing, physician to General Wellesley himself!" he replied. "And a Captain Padstowe. I'm not exactly sure what it was all about... or if I'm supposed to answer questions or not. Not that I really have any good answers. Anyway, it got a bit rougher than we expected."

"I c'n believe that; things always seem to get rougher than expected. Why we don't expect them to be rough in the first place, I don't know." Now, that was interesting. "Captain Padstowe? Of the 50th?" he asked, turning the corner.

"Aye, that's him. You know him?"

"Aye, think I do. Ran into him about a week ago. Knocked him flying. My fault; I wasn't looking where I was going. He was nice enough not to say anything about it when he could've hauled me over the coals, and told me Captain, an' all."

And didn't that just make it more interesting? Why was Captain Padstowe of the 50th doing out near Obidos with Mister Sharpe and his men.

And while he was thinking about that, they arrived at the Quartermaster' stores of the 62nd.

"Oh, now I recognize the place!" Perkins said with a satisfied sigh. "Thanks for showin' me the way, mate. Hopefully me walk back will be quicker, and more comfortable," he added, looking down at his feet. "You off to deliver that now?"

"Yeah, then I really need to go and sort me officer's stuff out for him. But if we'm goin' to be marchin' together, I'll see on the march, won't I? Or in camp?"

He rather liked the look of the eager young Rifleman, and looked forward to getting to know him a little better.

"Aye, I expect so. And your Maggie too? Do you bring her along?"

He grinned. "She ain't my Maggie, though I could wish different. And she'll more than likely come along too. Us soldiers are her best customers, y'see." He sighed a little; Maggie was her own woman, and he didn't think she even realised he liked her.

"What about you? Do you have a girl to look after you?"

"A girl? Me? No... Gotta look after meself, I s'pose! Like these boots, I better go get 'em. Thanks again! And, good luck with that Maggie," he finished with a wink as he headed for the door.