Third night in camp

"And you say it was discovered in the officer's baggage?" He shook his head. "Sounds like Hakeswill to me. And o' course there ain't any proof, and Cotton can't accuse a Sergeant. What d'you want me to do, then?" He shifted a little. "Carty, lad, I didn't say you had to stand there like a half-wit. There's plenty o' room by the fire still."

"It's - complicated, Sir. I don't know the rights and wrongs of it, but Miss Maggie took the watch, and they say - the officer who found her with it says - that Cotton stole it from Vickery. Which is not as bad as it could be, of course. But even so, if you explain to the Colonel about Hakeswill... " He licked his lips. "I can't go to him - he wouldn't listen to me - and Miss Maggie doesn't know anything. Captain Vickery doesn't know Hakeswill either, from what I know. But you, sir, you know Hakeswill. You can convince him that Cotton's innocent."

Williams hoped that the thought of foiling Hakeswill's attempt to revenge himself on Cotton would be enough: the Lieutenant did not actually owe Cotton anything, and might not otherwise agree to involve himself in another regiment's disciplinary problems.

Lieutenant Sharpe called him a half-wit. Carty looked at his feet, flushing bright red with shame, and stammered a horrendously pronounced apology before backing further into the shadows around the fire. Then his brain caught up with his feet, and he promptly sat down.

He looked up at the lady and her friend - a different friend - but had long given up on trying to follow their conversation. They were talking about captains, and someone called Hakeswill.

Maggie looked around at Williams and felt a bit helpless. She turned back to the lieutenant. "And... and you saw us - Gabe and me, that is Rifleman Cotton - the night Captain Padstowe was attacked, and so did Private Williams here, and I know Gabe couldn't have been the one to do that. He just couldn't. And besides, the Captain had just eaten with Gabe's own Captain Vickery, and... well why would Gabe go after him to take his watch? But last night I went to my bag and there was someone in the baggage who called out to me. I thought it were one of the lads, the riflemen, playin' a joke like, but... but then we found the watch this morning, and someone had put it there." Her words were coming out in a jumble now, and she wasn't even sure of what she was saying anymore. "I don't know, Mister Sharpe - I don't know what to do, but if they flog him it'll be my fault and all, because I thought the man would come back so I told him I'd keep it safe in my pocket and I didn't!"

Hakeswill had caused too many innocent men to suffer for Sharpe to be willing to let him have another victim, especially one such as Cotton.

He hadn't seen very much of the Rifleman, but what he had seen had impressed him. The fact that the man had beaten Hagman in a straight competition was one of the things Sharpe remembered. And he recalled again how gentle and tender he had been with Maggie in the tavern only a few nights ago.

"It depends on exactly what the charge is, o' course," he said. "If they're accusin' him of pinching it from Padstowe, then I can tell the court about Hakeswill. But if, as you say, they're accusin' him of taking it from Captain Vickery's baggage, then I'm afraid that charge sounds as though it will stick. I will do what I can, of course."

He sighed. "You've got nowt to blame yoursel' about Maggie. If Hakeswill is behind it, he'd've got your man somehow, any way he could. I reckon you want me to speak up at the court-martial. When are they holdin' it, then?"

"Less than an hour. At the 62nd's headquarters. Oh will you really? Thank you, Lieutenant Sharpe! Thank you. You'll - they'll have to believe you."

Waldegrave was looking for Maggie Evans. The woman ought to have been with the 60th, but he was told she had left, with a redcoat private. Which did not surprise him. Remarkably quick to change men, women were, if they thought it would be to their advantage. But he needed her. The watch had been found on her, and although he might have wanted to include her in the charge, the Colonel had refused - or had suggested that it was not necessary. Cotton, as the man, should be held responsible, and unless he blamed the woman... But the woman ought to be there, since her possession of the watch was the main evidence against Cotton.

It was not easy to find a woman and a redcoat - a specific woman and a redcoat - in the camping ground.

"I don't reckon they do, lass, but I'll do me best for you." He began buttoning his jacket up. "If it don't work, look after him, won't you? He'll be needin' you, mebbe more than you'll know."

"If it don't work? But - if people saw us, saw him, then they'll have to know he didn't rob Captain Padstowe. Do you - do you remember seeing us, lieutenant? In the tavern? I was the one who tripped your friend," she added shyly. "Your friend with the crutch. And Gabe was with me. He saw you - he told me your name."

"Aye, I remember you." He smiled at her, trying to break it to her gently. "If the trial is about him robbing - or folks reckoning he robbed - Captain Padstowe, then what I have to say will matter, because I saw you both in the tavern when we think it was done. But if the trial's because he was found with the watch because he took it from Captain Vickery's bag, that's summat else, and they likely will find him guilty of that, because, from what you've said, he did do just that, even if it was to stop someone else getting there first. D'you understand the difference?"

She looked at him with pleading in her eyes as if she might persuade him to change his mind, but she nodded reluctantly.

"That's the part that's my fault," she said softly, looking down at the cup in her hands. "I don't know what I'll do if..."

"What you'll do, lass, is look after him properly, like he's lookin' after you. He ain't blamed you for it, or you wouldn't be here now. And from what I saw of you both in the tavern, he likes you too much to ever think of blamin' you."

She hung her head at his words. Of course Cotton wouldn't blame her, though he had every right to. But she certainly blamed herself, and she would never forgive herself if he was flogged for her own impetuous stupidity.

"Right, I reckon your hour is nearly up. If you want to come along, we'd best be goin'," Sharpe said. "If you ain't finished that tea, Maggie, bring it with you and drink it on the way."

She smiled her thanks but shook her head, looking for someone to give it to. A flash of red next to a fire caught her eye and she gasped, involuntarily clutching at Private Williams' arm next to her. It was Lieutenant Waldegrave.

"You can give it to Carty, if you don't want it," the Rifles Lieutenant said, turning to see what had discomfited her.

He frowned as he recognised the fool officer who had accosted Doctor Maturin and himself as they'd searched for Captain Padstowe. Bugger.

Carty looked up to see what had startled the lady, and his mouth dropped open in horror - even though it had been dark, he could recognise the officer he had run into the night before, who had told him he would be flogged. He gaped, shaking, for a moment, until his wits returned and he started down into the grass as if his life depended on it. Which might not be so far from the truth.

"We'd better go," Maggie whispered to Williams, rising to her feet and backing away from the fire.

Someone had seen the woman going towards the 95th's camp, and there she was, sitting with Sharpe. The redcoat - who he could now see was from the 27th - was still with her, as was one of Sharpe's riflemen. It made Waldegrave smile inwardly as he came up and said, with pointed politeness: "Lieutenant Sharpe. I am sorry to deprive you of your company, but I have to take her to give evidence at a court martial."

A movement from the crouching rifleman drew his attention, and he recognized, without much surprise, the white face of the man who had tried to knock him down. For a moment he hesitated, but to acknowledge the rifleman - to use this opportunity to bring a charge - would divert his attention from the duty before him. And the chance would remain. Ignoring the man tonight did not mean that he could not have him arrested on a later occasion. So he said nothing as the man looked away and down, and returned his attention to Sharpe.

Maggie cringed, but she was not entirely surprised. She looked over her shoulder at Sharpe and gave him a grateful but nervous smile. "I'll see you later, all right?" she said to Williams, squeezing his arm before she left.

"Would that be the same court martial I have pertinent evidence to give at?" Sharpe asked, glad someone had explained the meaning of the word 'pertinent' properly when he'd said it was the opposite of 'impertinent'.

"We are already going that way, so your escort will not be needed, thank you."

"Really? Evans is my witness, and I am responsible for seeing that she reaches the court. She should have been detained, not allowed to wander around talking to other witnesses willy nilly," Waldegrave complained. "As prosecuting officer, I request that she be surrendered to my custody, until the court is finished with her."

Williams smiled at Maggie as she squeezed his arm and rose to accompany the snooty officer. Sharpe obviously didn't take to him either. And Williams, who had little time for most officers or most of the English, sat back, his eyes on the cringing figure of the youngster who had brought them tea.

"Your witness? I have not been to many courts-martial, but she is a defense witness, if anything." Sharpe spoke mildly. He'd like to wipe the smug look off the other officer's face, but now was neither the time nor the place.

Maggie stopped in her tracks and stiffened at Waldegrave's words. His witness, and his custody? But she knew there was little to be gained by arguing about it now. "It's all right. I'll go," she said. "Let's get this over with."