Prev | Current Page 278 | Next

Griffiths, Arthur, 1838-1908

"The Thin Red Line; and Blue Blood"

Is there no one
here in authority? I claim his protection."
"Which you don't deserve, scurvy rogue," said a quiet voice. "You are
no officer--only a vile, disreputable spy."
"I can prove to you--"
"Bah! how well you speak Russian. We know all about you; we expected
you. But enough: we must be going on."
"I don't know who you may be," began McKay, hotly, "but I shall
complain of you to your superior officer."
"Silence!" replied the other, haughtily. "Have I not told you to hold
your tongue? Fill his mouth with clay, some of you, and bring him
along."
This fresh outrage nearly maddened McKay.
"You shall carry me, then," he spluttered out, from where he still lay
upon the ground.
"Ah! we'll see. Get up, will you! Prick him with the point of your
lance, Ivanovich. Come, move yourself," added the officer, as McKay
slowly yielded to this painful persuasion, "move yourself, or you
shall feel this," and the officer cracked the long lash of his
riding-whip.
"You shall answer for this barbarity," said McKay "I demand to be
taken before the General at once."
"You shall see him, never fear, sooner than you might wish, perhaps."
"Take me at once before him; I am not afraid."
"You will wait till it suits us, dog; meanwhile, lie there."
They had reached a rough shelter built of mud and long reeds.


Pages:
266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290