Dennis saw it, and wondered how Claude Laval was faring; and as he looked at his wrist-watch he saw that it was nearly six o'clock.
At that moment the most terrific bombardment the war had witnessed burst with devastating fury upon the German lines. Nothing had been heard like it, and men smiled grimly, knowing that their turn would come soon.
The C.O. left the bay, and walked along the front of his beloved battalion from one end of it to the other; a quiet, keen-eyed English officer, brave as a lion they all knew, but showing no trace of the slightest excitement as his eye scanned the faces of the waiting men.
He had been appointed to the command when the Dashwoods' father was given the brigade, and he realised that the brigadier expected great things of his old battalion.
"I never saw a fitter lot," was his gratified comment as he returned to the two brothers. "Heaven help the enemy yonder if our artillery has only cleared the wire."
"It's sincerely to be hoped they have, sir," said Captain Bob dryly. "There was a dickens of a lot of it. But we shall get through without a doubt. Not long to wait now, for there go the trench mortars."
Mingling with the continuous roar of our guns came a still louder and very insistent sound, to which they listened in silence, every officer of the battalion with his eye on his watch.
"Well, good luck, old chap!" said Bob suddenly, gripping Dennis by the hand. And the two brothers looked at each other with the same thought behind the quiet confidence of their smile.
It might be the last time they would ever meet on earth, but they faced the possibility without fear, and already a dense cloud of smoke, released along our whole front, was shrouding the waiting line.
"Seven-thirty to the tick," said the C.O. "Reedshires—Get over!" And in an instant the battalion was swarming out of its trench, and advancing over the two hundred yards of broken ground which separated the brigade from the enemy, with sloped arms.