Just upon the rear of No. 3
Redoubt McKay and his men came upon a fellow crouching low amongst the
broken ground. McKay would have passed by without remark, but his
first look at the stranger, who wore no uniform and seemed a harmless,
unoffending Tartar peasant, was followed by a second and keener gaze.
He thought he recognised the man; he certainly had seen his face
before. Directing his men to seize him, he made a longer and closer
inspection, and found that it was the ruffian whom they had surprised
and chased on the heights above the Alma the morning after the battle.
"He is up to no good," said McKay. "We must take him along with us."
But where? The job they were on was a definite one; not the capture of
chance prisoners, which would certainly delay them on the road.
Still, remembering the last occasion on which he had seen this man,
and the mysterious remarks that Hyde had let fall concerning him,
McKay felt sure the fellow was not what he seemed. This Tartar dress
must be a disguise: how could Hyde have made the acquaintance years
before of a Tartar peasant in the Crimea?
Certainly the man must go with them, and therefore, placing him
securely in the midst of his party, McKay marched on. If nothing
better offered, he would hand his prisoner over to the Commandant of
Balaclava on arrival there.
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