A message came from Captain Conroy, in the forward trench, to say that
Riley was coming up to headquarters and would explain matters.
Riley and the explanation duly arrived. "Ould Prickles," inclined at first to be mightily wroth at the unauthorized digging of the sap, caught a twinkle in the Padre's eye; and a modest hint from the Little Lad reminding him of the speed and excellence of the new trenches, construction turned the scale. He burst into a roar of laughter, and the Padre joined him heartily, while the Little Lad stood beaming and chuckling complacently.
"I must tell the Brigadier this," gasped the O.C. at last. "He might have had a cross word or two to say about a sap being dug without orders, but, thank heaven, he's an Irishman, and a poorer joke would excuse a worse crime with him. But I'm wondering what's going to happen when they reach their General and find no francs, and no watch, and not even a General; and mind you, Riley, the sap must be stopped at once. I can't be having good men casualtied on an unofficial job. Will you see to that right away?"
The Little Lad's chuckling rose to open giggling.
"It's stopped now, sir," he said—"just before I came up here. And what's more, the General won't need explaining; the German gunners spied our sap, and, trying to drop a heavy shell on it—well, they dropped one on to the General. So now there isn't a General, only a hole in the ground where he was."
Ould Prickles' and the Padre's laughter bellowed again.
"I must tell that to the Brigadier, too," said the O.C.; "that finish to the joke will completely satisfy him."
"And I must go," said the Padre, rising, "and tell McRory, though I'm not just sure whether it will be after satisfying him quite so completely."