"I believe he is right. Here is the bill; it has not Mr. Fielder's signature. This is most irregular. What shall I do?"
"You had better give me back the bill of lading and the cases until the proper formalities have been observed."
"You are perfectly right, my dear sir, and I am extremely obliged to you for your suggestion."
A few minutes later McKay had possession of the cases. With the help of some of his uncle's crew he moved them back to the seaside, where he waited until Hyde's arrival from the front. Then they loaded up the greggos on the baggage-animals, and returned to camp in triumph.
From that day the men of the Royal Picts were fairly well off. Their condition was not exactly comfortable, but they suffered far less than the bulk of their comrades in the Crimea.
Their sheepskin-jackets were not very military in appearance, but they were warm, and their heavy seamen's boots kept out the wet. They had a sufficiency of food, too, served hot, and prepared with rough-and-ready skill, under the superintendence of Hyde.
He had struck up a great friendship with a Frenchman, one of the Voltigeurs, in a neighbouring camp, who, in return for occasional nips of sound brandy, brought straight from the Burlington Castle, freely imparted the whole of his culinary knowledge to the quartermaster of the Royal Picts.
"He is a first-class cook," said Hyde to his friend McKay, "and was trained, he tells me, in one of the best kitchens in Paris. He could make soup, I believe, out of an old shoe."
"I can't think how you get the materials for the men's meals. That stew yesterday was never made out of the ration-biscuit and salt pork. There was fresh meat in it. Where did you get it?"
Old Hyde winked gravely.