The Prince, a portly, imposing figure, of haughty demeanour, and
speaking imperiously, accosted McKay very curtly.
"I know all about you. Whether you are spy or traitor matters little:
your life is forfeited. But I will spare it on one condition. Tell me
unreservedly what is going on in the enemy's lines."
"I should indeed deserve your unjust epithets if I replied," was all
McKay's answer.
"What reinforcements have reached the allies lately?" went on the
Prince, utterly ignoring McKay's refusal, and looking at him fiercely.
"Speak out at once."
Our hero bore the gaze unflinchingly, and said nothing.
"We know that the French Imperial Guard have arrived, and that many
new regiments have joined the English. Is an immediate attack
contemplated?"
McKay was still silent.
"Ill-conditioned, obstinate fool!" cried the Prince, angrily. "It is
your only chance. Speak, or prepare to die!"
"You have no right to press me thus. I refuse distinctly to betray my
own side."
"Your own side! You are a Russian--it is your duty to tell us. But I
will not bandy words with you. Let him be taken back to a place of
safety and await my orders."
Once more McKay gave himself up for lost. When he regained the
wretched casemate that was his prison he hardly hoped to leave it,
except when summoned for execution.
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