"You will find it hard to evade your responsibility. It is not to be put on or off like a coat. You were born a Russian subject, and a Russian subject you remain!"
"I bear a commission in the army of the British Queen. I dare you to treat me as a Russian now!"
"We will treat you as we find you, Mr. McKay: as an interloper disguised for an improper purpose within our lines."
"What shall you do with me?" asked McKay, in a firm voice, but with a sinking heart.
"Hang you like a dog to the nearest tree. Or, stay! out of respect for your father, whom I knew, and if you prefer it, you shall be shot."
"I am in your power. But I warn you that, if you execute me, the merciless act will be remembered throughout Europe as an eternal disgrace to the Russian arms."
This bold speech was not without its effect. The general consulted with his staff, and a rather animated discussion followed, at the end of which he said—
"I am not to be deterred by any such threats: still, it will be better to refer your case to my superiors. I shall send you into Sebastopol, to be dealt with as Prince Gortschakoff may think fit, only do not expect more at his hands than at mine. Rope or rifle—one of them will be your fate. See he is sent off, Colonel Golopine, will you? And now take him away."
McKay was marched out of the marquee, still under the escort of Cossacks. But outside he was presently handed over to a fresh party; they brought up a shaggy pony—it might have been the fellow of the one he had left behind the previous night—and curtly bade him mount. When, with hands still tied, he scrambled with difficulty into his saddle, they tied his legs together by a long rope under the pony's belly, and, placing him in the centre of the escort, they started off at a jog-trot in the direction of the town.