to, there’s an officer out in front about fifty yards away with a good helmet on. Thought of going out myself last night—but they were too bally busy with their flares. Still—the helmet’s worth getting. Well, so long, I think I’ve shown you everything. Bye-bye. Oh! while I think of it, they’ve got a bit of this communication trench, about forty yards down, marked. I’d get it deepened.”
And with that he went, and Ainsworth was alone. Stray rifle shots cracking through the night—flares going up with steady persistency. He tested his telephone to Headquarters—it was working. He went along his length of trench—one man watching in each little length, the rest lying down with rifles by their sides. Occasionally the watching man gave them one round to show the Hun he wasn’t forgotten; while without intermission the ping—thud from the fixed rifle came into the earth of the traverse. It formed a sort of lullaby to Gerald. The awakening was drastic. ••••• Just as the dawn was faintly streaking the sky, and the men all awake were gripping their rifles in anticipation of any possible
