"Welt over the head with a rifle-butt," whispered Dennis excitedly. "I say, old chap, if we've any luck, I'll get you out of this. Do you know the lie of the land?"
"Yes, we're about a mile and a half in front of our new first line. Do you think you could rub my leg? You'll have to take the gaiter off; I've had several shots at it, but my fingers are all to pieces trying to get over some of their wire, and I couldn't slip the buckle for little apples."
Dennis had the gaiter undone in a moment, and Bob writhed as his brother felt the injured limb.
"You've got no end of a sprain, old man," whispered Dennis. "No wonder you couldn't walk. Your instep's swollen up as big as my two fists, and there's nothing for it but rest and cold water bandages to put you right."
"H'm! If I didn't know you for my own brother, I should put you down as a near relation of the late lamented Mr. Job," said Bob Dashwood, with a wry face. "But never mind, keep on rubbing. I'm feeling more life in it already. But, I say, Den, this is a weird place we're in. These German fellows don't seem to take their gruel like our chaps. It's a gruesome thing to hear a man cry."
"And it's worse to hear a man die, Bob," said Dennis solemnly. "I don't fancy from what the doctor said that many of these poor wretches will be here when the sun rises."
It was indeed a trying thing to be there, in the darkness with those sounds of human suffering all about them, and it made them both very anxious to make a start for that freedom which seemed such a long way off. Every now and then a piercing cry rose above the constant undercurrent of moans, and the sobbing was distressing in the extreme.
A strong man from the far side of the barn calling piteously on "Mütterchen," made them both think of their own "little mother"; and after Dennis had rubbed for several minutes until the palms of his hands were terribly hot, Bob clutched his shoulder and whispered: "For goodness' sake, old chap, let's chance our arm! I can't stand any more of this!"
"Just as you like," assented his brother, strapping the gaiter loosely round the limb again. "If you can't walk you must crawl, and when you can't crawl I'll carry you; but I wish my head wouldn't ache so confoundedly. Do you notice no one's been near this place since they brought you in? That tells me the sanitary squad will be busy to-morrow."
He helped Bob up as he spoke, not to his feet, for he could not put the right one to the ground; but by passing an arm round Dennis's neck he managed to hop to the door, which was only a yard away, and there they paused to take their bearings before leaving the shelter of the barn.