"
"Who is that? A prisoner?"
"One of our own people. McKay, of the headquarter staff. A man whom
the Russians took, and whom we have just recovered."
"McKay!" cried the aide-de-camp, joyfully. "Where is he?"
Our hero was speedily surrounded by a group of sympathetic friends, to
whom he gave a short account of himself. Then he briefly explained to
the general the position in which they were.
"It is as I thought," said the general. "We have pierced the Russian
works above the man-of-war harbour, and, if reinforced promptly, can
take the whole of the line in reverse. Will you let Lord Raglan know?
and the attack might then be renewed on this side."
"I fear there is no hope of that," said the aide-de-camp, gloomily.
"Have we failed, then?" asked McKay.
His friend shook his head.
"Completely. I cannot tell why exactly, but I know that part of the
French started prematurely. There was some mistake about the
signal-rocket. This gave the alarm to the whole garrison."
"Yes; I heard them turning out in the middle of the night."
"And the consequence was they were ready for us at all points. Our
attacking parties at the Redan were met with a tremendous fire, and
literally mowed down. Our losses have been frightful. All the
generals--Sir John Campbell, Lacy, yea, and Shadford--are killed, and
ever so many more.
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