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Sawbones will be up soon. Meanwhile, let's try and staunch the blood. We'll tear up your shirt for a bandage." And with rough but real kindness he tore open McKay's old greggo so as to get at his underlinen. This action betrayed the red cloth waistcoat he still wore. "Why, that's an English staff waistcoat. Quick! How did you come by it, you murdering rogue?" "I am a staff officer." "You!
McKay, who had now put on the greggo and sheepskin cap, did as he was asked, and the two crept forward together, having left the horse tethered to a bush, the guide explaining by signs that they would presently come back to it. A little farther and he placed his hand upon McKay's arms, with a motion to halt.
Valetta Joe heard with marked disapprobation McKay's intention of carrying out his enterprise without assuming disguise. "You better stay at home: not go very far like that." "Lend me a greggo to throw over my coat, and a sheepskin cap, and I shall easily pass the Cossack sentries. Where is my guide?"
"Does he know where he is to take me? What we are going to do?" "All right. You trust him: he take you past Cossacks." Joe muttered a few unintelligible instructions to the guide, who received them with deep respect, making a low bow, first to Joe and then to McKay. "I give him greggo and cap: you put them on when you like."
"Here!" replied McKay, throwing open the greggo, which he still wore, and showing the red waistcoat beneath, and the black breeches with their broad red stripe. "You said he was a civilian in Tartar disguise," said the general, for such was the officer's rank, turning to one of his staff and seeming rather staggered at McKay's announcement. He spoke in Russian.
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