"Four hundred pounds, Sharpe, " Urquhart said.

"That's the official rate for an ensign's commission, but between you and me you can squeeze at least another fifty. Maybe even a hundred! And in guineas.

But if you do sell to a ranker here, then make damn sure his note is good."

Sharpe said nothing. Were there really gentlemen rankers in the 94th? Such men could afford to be officers, and had an officer's breeding, but until a commission was vacant they served in the ranks, yet ate in the mess. They were neither fish nor fowl. Like Sharpe himself. And any one of them would snap at the chance to buy a commission in the 74th. But Sharpe hardly needed the money. He possessed a fortune already, and if he wanted to leave the army then all he needed to do was resign his commission and walk away. Walk away a rich man.

"Of course, " Urquhart went on, oblivious of Sharpe's thoughts, 'if the note's written on a decent army agent then you won't have any worries.

Most of our fellows use John Borrey in Edinburgh, so if you see one of his notes then you can place full trust in it. Borrey's an honest fellow.

Another Calvinist, you see."

"And a freemason, sir?" Sharpe asked. He was not really sure why he asked, but the question just got blurted out. He supposed he wanted to know if it was the same thing as a Calvinist.

"I really couldn't say." Urquhart frowned at Sharpe and his voice became colder.

"The point is, Sharpe, he's trustworthy."

Four hundred and fifty guineas, Sharpe thought. It was not to be spat on. It was another small fortune to add to his jewels, and he felt the temptation to accept Urquhart's advice. He was never going to be welome in the 74th, and with his plunder he could set himself up in England.

"Coins on the barrel-head, " Urquhart said.

"Think on it, Sharpe, think on it. Jock, my horse!»

Sharpe threw away the cigar. His mouth was dry with dust and the smoke was harsh, but as Urquhart mounted his horse he saw the scarcely smoked cigar lying on the ground and gave Sharpe an unfriendly look. For a second it seemed as if the Captain might say something, then he pulled on the reins and spurred away. Bugger it, Sharpe thought. Can't do a thing right these days.