This Russian gentleman himself was singularly communicative and remarkably free and candid. He spoke about the war, and in very good English; and what is more, he spoke the truth.
He told the officers about Balaklava first. They had not heard of it before.
"It was a well-fought field," he said, "but hardly a battle. No; Alma was a battle. I was there; I was on Telegraph Hill. Ah! how well your fellows fought. But your French—bah! they are only fit to sell tape and ribbons. Soldiers! no, no, not now, and never will be again. But you and your allies made the grand mistake in not seizing Sebastopol when you could have done so."
"It isn't too late yet, mon ami," laughed the captain. "We're going to take Sebastopol, and we shan't leave one stone standing on top of another."
"My friend, do not think it cruel of me to speak the truth. The fruits of your Alma which your Highlanders won, your Raglan permitted to escape. Your bombardment was a waste of good gunpowder. The part your ships took in it made us laugh."
"He laughs best," said Sturdy, "who laughs last."
"True; and it will be the Russians. Listen. You are going to Balaklava. Before you reach that port a battle will be fought that shall decide the war—fought, and won by us. Ah, you may smile, but it is true. Already is the proud Eagle of Russia sweeping down from the north. There are armies on the way that will crush you if you were twice as strong and great. You fight as fights the stoat when the wild cat has seized her—a long, red, and vicious line; but strength triumphs at last—the stoat dies. Where will you be when our armies reach the Chersonese (the Upland)? The weight and strength of our thousands will cause even proud Britain to rock and reel, till, backward hurled across the plains, vainly supported by lazy Turk and gassy French, our artillery and wild horsemen will sweep you out of existence. With nothing to fall back upon except the bleak sea-shores, your defeat will mean annihilation, for you will die sword in hand, we doubt not. The few of you who are taken prisoners will return to your defeated and degraded nation sadder and wiser men. Your fate will be a lesson to the world, and it is but the fate that God in his justice hangs over all pirates and adventurers."
Sturdy laughed again.
"Your parable of the stoat and the wild cat," he said, "is not inapt. But don't forget, my friend, that we have Russia now by the neck just as the stoat had the cat. The stoat holds on; so shall we. It is life or death, for verily this is a war to the dagger's hilt."
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