"Is that what a shell sounds like?" asked Horace curiously. "I thought it was much louder."
The master cast a sidewise glance at him.
"Have you ever seen a large shell burst?" he asked.
"No," responded the boy.
"After you do," the old reservist commented, "you will feel differently."
Another shell, not quite as near, whistled behind them.
"They may hit us!" exclaimed Deschamps, with a nervous laugh, the incredulity in his tone revealing how little he realized his danger, nor the devastation wrought by a modern shell.
"Go back, Monroe," said the master, quickening his steps.
Horace kept step by step beside him.
"You said I might go to the corner," he protested; "it's only a little way further."