"Well, here we are," said Mr. Burton in a quite cheerful tone. "And not a casualty among us—or the Germans either, I fancy, save those that died of heart disease. Are we all here, by the way?"
He then struck a match, and my heart sank.
"Tish!" I cried. "Tish is not here!"
It was then that a voice from the far end of the church said: "Suffering snakes! I'm delirious, Weber! I knew that beer would get me. I thought I heard"
Some one was hammering at the door with a revolver, and we heard Tish's dear voice outside saying: "Keep your hands up! Lizzie!"
Mr. Burton opened the door and Tish backed in, followed by a figure that was muttering in German. She had both her revolvers pointed at it, and she said: "Close the door, somebody, and get a light. I think it's a general."
Well, Charlie Sands was coming with a candle stuck in the neck of a bottle, and he seemed extremely surprised. He kept stumbling over things and saying "Wake me, Weber," until he had put a hand on my arm.
"It's real," he said then. "It's a real arm. Therefore it is, it must be. And yet"
"Stop driveling," Tish said sharply, "and tie
