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Author: langbot
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English[en]
He read the document: “Where is the rest of your squad?” “In the front carriage of the train, Sir. Only I need to travel with the coffin.” I guessed that he would be simply too idle to check the front carriage for the rest of my squad. “But there’s no mention of any coffin in these orders, Sergeant. How is that?” “Well, Sir, you will recall that there were no military casualties in the engagement outside the university. So, ...” “And you were there?” “Yessir, I was,” I replied. “And were there? Were there casualties, Sergeant? Unofficially, of course,” pursued the Major. This put me in a dilemma: did I reveal what was obviously a military secret (i.e. the fact that there had actually been casualties) or did I refuse to answer the direct question of a superior officer? I took the same line as before: “I’m not at liberty to answer that question , Major.” I waited, still staring straight ahead, still standing at attention. David had been listening in. He was obviously unhappy. I could hear him making little grunts and groans of protest from within the coffin – and, so, I think, could the Major. “Can you hear something, Sergeant?” I put on a puzzled expression and responded: “Only the noise of the train, Sir.” David’s unhappy noises subsided for a moment but the Major was still not content. “Well, Sergeant,” he said. “I understand that you may not be able to answer my questions directly...” Okay. “... but you can satisfy my curiosity by opening the coffin, can’t you?”
Cornish[kw]
Ev a redyas an skrifenn: “Ple’ma’n soudoryon erell y’th para?” “Y’n koch a-rag, an kynsa koch, Syrr. Nyns esa edhomm dhe dhenvyth a lavurya gans an eler a-der my.” Y fia ev re dhiek, dell grysyn, dhe hwilas y’n kynsa koch rag kavoes ow fara. “Nyns eus kampoell vyth y’th arghadow a-dro dhe’n eler ma, a Serjont. Fatell yw henna?” “Wel, Syrr, dell yllydh perthi kov anodho, nyns esa tus vreselek vryw y’n vatel ogas dhe’n bennskol. Ytho, ...” “Hag yth eses jy ena?” “Yassyrr, yth esen vy ena,” a worthybis. “Hag, esa lies den bryw, a Serjont? My a’th wovynn yn ansoedhek, heb mar,” a besyas an Ughkapten. Unnweyth arta, hemm o mater tykkli ragov: a dalvien vy diskudha kevrin breselek (henn yw leverel, an gwiryonedh a-dro dhe’n tus vryw) po a dalvien skonya a ri gorthyp dhe wovynn soedhek a ughella renk essov vy? My a gemmeras an keth linenn ha’n kynsa prys: “Nyns ov rydh dhe worthybi an govynn ma, ‘Ughkapten.” Yth esen hwath ow kortos, hwath ow lagatta a-dheragov, hwath ow sevel yn attendyans. Y fia Davydh ow koslowes orthyn. Y hyllyn y glywes, ow kul nebes roghow ha nebes hanasennow a-berth y’n eler – kepar dell wrer protestyans, dell grysav. My a grys an Ughkapten dhe alloes aga klywes keffrys. “A yllta klywes neppyth, a Serjont?” Meur ow ankombrynsi (po dell heveli), my a worthybis: “Travyth a-der tros an tren, Syrr.” Trosow anlowen Davydh a goselhas dres pols mes nyns o hwath lowen an Ughkapten. “Wel, a Serjont,” yn-medh ev. “My a gonvedh na yllydh ri dhymm gorthybow ewn dhe’m govynnadow ...” Da lowr. “... mes ty a yll satisfya ow hwans a wodhvos dre igeryans an eler, a ny yllydh?”