Chapter Twenty Five.
“Kill allee Pilate.”
“This will be your station, Lynn,” said Blunt as they passed along inside the thickest wall till they reached the bale bastion, where the manager halted. “You take that wide loophole shelter yourself at the side; there’s a capital place for resting your rifle, and with such a steady support, and as you will be able to cover so wide a sweep of the enemy’s advance, I shall expect you to make a good score.”
“A good score!” said Stan in a tone of voice full of disgust. “Any one would think I was going to shoot at a target.”
“At a good many targets,” said Blunt.
“Yes, human beings. You don’t really mean to say you want me to kill as many of those unfortunate wretches as I can?”
“Unfortunate? They haven’t proved to be unfortunate until they are badly beaten. Yes, that is what I mean. I want you to kill or disable every one of the enemy at whom you can get a shot.”
“And do you think I could be so bloodthirsty?”