"That blood's nothing, sir," explained the delighted private, coming to attention. "It ain't 'is own. I can show you the man wot that come art of. 'E was that sniper we never could spot, and I reckon it was 'arf me and 'arf Mr. Dashwood wot killed him." And he gave his listeners a brief outline of what had happened, as Dennis had told him on their way there from the tunnel.
"And I sent him out of harm's way, as I thought!" was the brigadier's inaudible whisper under his moustache, and then aloud he said: "Get four men and carry him back to his own dug-out. It will do him good to sleep the clock round, and he will do it better there."
So, oblivious of the jolting, Dennis Dashwood was borne across what had lately been No Man's Land, and was now ours, and tucked up tenderly in his bunk, where, if he did not exactly sleep the clock round, he certainly did not open an eyelid until sunrise next morning.
CHAPTER X
In which Dennis Meets Claude Laval, Pilote Aviateur
When Dennis awoke he saw Captain Bob looking at him, and he became conscious of a very pleasant odour of coffee permeating the dug-out.
"Oh, I say, why didn't you turn me out before, old chap?" Dennis cried. "I shall be late for the blooming inspection."