Dennis had lost all count of time, and only knew that he had crossed the strip of "No Man's Land" with his platoon, somehow, and was bursting bombs mechanically along the German trench.
Turning round as he came to a narrow door on his left, he was surprised for the moment to find the French corporal no longer at his elbow, and his laugh of amusement as he entered alone sounded odd and hollow.
With abrupt suddenness he ran down a flight of thirty wooden steps leading from the end of a short passage into a large hall, lit by electric light.
The huge underground dug-out was empty, save for some wounded Germans in bunks, and with a glance at the pictures on the walls, and the piano on a platform, he ran towards another door at the far end.
"Great Scott! they've got a regular town here!" he exclaimed aloud, gazing at the floor of the inner dug-out, which was quite thirty feet below the level on which he stood. "More electric light, and cases of ammunition enough for an army corps!"
"Perhaps you would like to count them, Dashwood?" said a mocking voice behind him.
But before he could turn round a coward's blow flung him forward into space. The electric lights went out, and while he was still falling he heard the heavy slam of the shell-proof door boom out of the darkness above him.