"Hallo, sir! Who are you?" was their commander's greeting, as Dennis reined up beside him.
"Lieutenant Dashwood, of the Reedshires, sir—just escaped from the German lines, thanks to the mare which I found running wild up yonder. I want to report a machine-gun in the corn up there."
"Nothing could check the victorious rush"[ToList]
"The dickens you do!" was the response; and the officer glanced at his men.
Every eye was turned upon him, and the horses were pawing impatiently, shaking the foam from their bits.
"It would be cruelty to animals to disappoint my chaps," he said, with an odd laugh. "This is our day out, you know, and we've waited a tidy while for it." And, raising his voice, he cried: "Come on, men! Slap through 'em—and hang the consequences!"
A rapturous shout greeted his words, and the lance-points came down.
The next moment Dennis found himself galloping beside the leader through the green corn-stalks. Grey figures sprang up in front; someone made a prod at him with a bayonet and missed. Mausers cracked out and a machine-gun began to bark, while here and there little knots of the enemy pressed in close together and prepared to receive cavalry, others flinging up their arms, crying: "Pity, Kamerad!"