"Lord Lydstone's perhaps. That would indeed be fortunate," went on McKay, turning to the doctor. "It is the general's cousin, you know; and on board the yacht—if we could get him there?"
"That is not impossible, I think. In fact, it would have to be done."
"Well, on board the yacht he would get the careful nursing you speak of. Is he well enough, do you think, to read this letter?"
"Under the circumstances, yes. Give it me, and I will take it in to the general."
A few minutes later McKay was again called in to the marquee.
"Oh, McKay, I wish you would be so good—" began the wounded man. "This letter, I mean, is from Mrs. Wilders; she has just arrived."
"Here, in the Crimea, sir?"
"Yes, she has come up in Lord Lydstone's yacht, and I want you to be so good as to go to her and break the news." He pointed sadly down the bed towards his shattered limb.
"Of course, sir, as soon as I can order out a fresh horse I will go to Balaclava. Perhaps I had better stay on board for a time, and make arrangements to receive you; if Lord Lydstone will allow me, that is to say."
"Lord Lydstone is not there. Mrs. Wilders tells me she has come up alone, and in the very nick of time. But now be off, McKay, and lose no time. Be gentle with her: it will be a great shock, I am afraid."