of _vodkhi_, an ardent spirit beloved by the Russian
peasant, half-a-dozen drops of which McKay managed to gulp down, but
they nearly burned his throat.

"Water! water!" he asked again.

And the Cossack, evidently surprised at his want of taste, substituted
the simpler fluid; but the charitable act drew down upon him the
displeasure of his chief.

"How dare you! without my permission?" cried the officer, as he dashed
the water from McKay's lips, and punished the offending Cossack by a
few sharp strokes with his whip.

"Come, fall in!" the officer next said. "It won't do to linger here."
And the party resumed their ride, still in the valley, but as far as
possible from the stream.

Every yard McKay's hopes sank lower and lower; every yard took him
further from his friends, who were advancing, he felt certain, towards
the river. Large bodies of troops, columns of infantry on the march,
covered by cavalry and accompanied by guns, were now perfectly visible
in the distant plain.

"Look to your front!" cried the Russian officer peremptorily to
Stanislas, as he stole a furtive, lingering glance back. "Faster! Spur
your horses, or we may be picked up or shot."

All hope was gone now. This was the end of the Tchernaya valley. Up
there opposite were the Inkerman heights, the sloping hills that a few
months before McKay had helped to hold. This paved, much-worn
causeway was the "Sappers' Road," leading round the top of the harbour
into the town.

No one stopped the Cossacks.

They passed a picket in a half-ruined guard-house, the roof of which,
its door, walls, and windows, were torn and shattered in the fierce
and frequent bombardments. Even at that moment a round shot crashed
over their heads, took the ground further off, and bounded away. The
sentry asked no questions. Some one looked out and waved his hand in
greeting to the Cossack officer, who replied, pointing ahead, as the
party rode rapidly on.

Time pressed; it promised to be a warm morning. The besiegers' fire,
intended no doubt to distract attention from the movements in the
Tchernaya, was constantly increasing.

"What dog's errand is this they sent me on?" growled the Cossack
officer, as a shell burst close to him and killed one of the escort.

"Faster! faster!"

And still, harassed by shot and shell, they pushed on.

All this time the road led by the water's edge; but presently they
left it, and, crossing the head of a creek, mounted a steep hill