CHAPTER II.
AMONG THE COSSACKS.
McKay was in His tent next morning finishing dressing when his servant
brought him a piece of crumpled paper and said there was a messenger
waiting to see him. The paper was the pass given the day before to
Valetta Joe; its bearer was a nondescript-looking ruffian, in a long
shaggy cloak of camel's hair, whose open throat and bare legs hinted
at a great scantiness of wardrobe beneath. He wore an old red fez,
stained purple, on the back of his bullet-head; he had a red, freckled
face, red eyebrows, red eyes, red hair, and a pointed red beard, both
of which were very ragged and unkempt.
"Have you got anything to tell me?" asked McKay, sharply, in English;
and when the other shook his head he tried him in French, Spanish,
and last of all in Italian.
"News," replied the visitor, at length, laconically; "ten dollars."
McKay put the money in his hand and was told briefly--
"To-morrow--sortie--Woronzoff Road."
And this was all the fellow would say.
McKay passed on this information to his chief, but rather doubtfully,
declining to vouch for it, or say whence it had come.
It was felt, however, that no harm could be done in accepting the news
as true and preparing for a Russian attack. The event proved the
wisdom of this course.
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