Bill had wakened at the suggestion.
"But s'pose they come back, Sam? Wot'll we do?"
The third man interposed.
"'Tain't wot we'll do. It's wot they'll do. They'll shoot us, by Gawd they will!" Panic came into his sharp little white face. He was desperately in earnest. "They'll shoot every man of us!"
"They won't come back," said Sam.
"Ho! Won't they? And 'aven't they countermarched before? W'y—I 'eard an officer say only this afternoon that they'd be 'avin' another go at 'em to-morrow."
"Did yer, really?" asked Bill, now thoroughly frightened.
"'Strue as I stand 'ere!—'We'll march back quick an' catch 'em,' 'e said," the little man invented rapidly. "An officer in the cavalry, it was. Staff-officer, shudn't wonder."
"Oh, my Gawd!" cried Bill, his beer-muddled faculties dispersing before a gale of fear. "'Ere, Sam—I'm orf! Come on! You brought me into this, yer know—I didn't want to desert. I told yer so, lots o' times—an' now!—Come on!—I ain't goin' to stop 'ere to get shot!"