
SHARPE kicked him in the head, then jumped over the tangle of traces and reins to find the two remaining men. One had struck his head against the tree as the cart capsized, and he was lying pale-faced on the grass, while the other man had been thrown into a thorn bush, where was fumbling to free his pistol.
"Don't move" Sharpe said, and hauled back the pistol's cock. "No, monsieur!
Please! " the man said. The wheels of the upset cart were still turning. "I do hate dragoons, " Sharpe said, walking up to the man. "Should have killed you all when I had the chance." He dragged the man free of the thorns, then cracked the pistol barrel over his skull to drive him down to the ground. He took that man's pistol and found the third on the unconscious man. "Three dragoons against one rifleman, " Sharpe said, "no wonder we won the bloody war.
Lebecque! Stop croaking like a bloody frog and come here." It took 15 minutes for the unconscious man to revive, and when he came to his senses he found his hands were tied behind his back and a vengeful Englishman was standing over him with a knife. "No, monsieur! " he pleaded. "Shut up, " Sharpe said, and get up." He had found the knife in Lebecque's pocket and had used it to cut the horses' reins into short lengths with which he had tied all three men's hands.
