"Great Scott! Why?" I asked.
"The weather," he answered laconically. "It's quite impossible for our chaps to go over the top in such sticky stuff. They wouldn't stand an earthly. As I said before, it's doing its best to upset the whole affair. I know the men will be awfully disappointed. We can hardly hold them back now—but there, I suppose the Commander-in-Chief knows best. Undoubtedly it's a wise decision. The weather may break—God knows it couldn't be worse!"
At that moment the Brigade-General came in. He was looking quite bright.
"I hear 'The Day' has been postponed, sir," I said. "Is that official?"
"Yes," he said. "If the weather improves ever such a little it will pay us for waiting, and of course it will suit you much better?"
"Rather," I replied. "It also gives me more time to film the preliminary scenes. I shall, however, keep to my programme, and go to the trenches this afternoon."
I packed all my apparatus together, put some bully and biscuits in my bag, and started off once more for the trenches. I admit that on the journey thoughts crept into my mind, and I wondered whether I should return. Outwardly I was merry and bright, but inwardly—well, I admit I felt a bit nervous. And yet, I had an instinctive feeling that all would be well, that I need not worry. Such is the complex mystery of the human mind, battling within itself against its own knowledge, its own decisions, its own instincts. And yet there is a predominating force which seems to shuffle itself out of the midst of that chaotic state of mind, and holds itself up as a beacon-light, saying "Follow me, believe in me, let me guide you, all will be well." And it is the man who allows himself to be guided by that mysterious something, which for the want of a better name we may call "instinct," who benefits, both spiritually and materially, by it.
The usual big gun duel was proceeding with its usual intensity, but we were putting over about fifty shells to the Huns' one. "Crump" fell both ahead and behind me, compelling me, as before, to fall flat upon the ground. I reached the "Fifth Avenue." The trench was full of men taking down munitions. The news of the postponement had by some means reached them; they also were looking rather glum.
Ye Gods, I thought, it's very nearly worth while to risk walking along the top. In places there was quite two feet of mud and water to wallow through.
"Fritz is crumping down the bottom of the Avenue, sir," said a Tommy to me; "just caught several of our lads—dirty blighters: right in the trench, sir."