"It agrees with what I've heard," said Challoner, surveying the roughly marked scene of battle with critical eyes. "You were weak in numbers, but your position was strong. It could have been held."
"We'll take Mrs. Chudleigh's suggestion first." Blake began to move the pieces. "The Ghazees rolled straight over our first line; my mine, which might have checked them, wouldn't go off; a broken circuit in the firing wires, I suppose. We were hustled out of the trenches; it was too dark for effective rifle fire."
"The trench the second detachment held should have been difficult to rush."
"Oh! well," said Blake, "you must remember that the beggars were Ghazees; they're hard to stop. Then our men were worn out and had been sniped every night for the last week or two. However, the bugler's the key to my explanation; I'll put this dab of cigar ash here to represent him. This bishop's Bertram, and you can judge by the distance whether the fellow could have heard the order to blow, 'Cease fire,' through the row that was going on."
He resumed his quick moving of the chessmen, accompanying it by a running commentary. "Here's another weak point in the woman's tale, which must be obvious to any one who has handled troops; these fellows couldn't have gained a footing in this hollow because it was raked by our fire. There was no cover and the range was short. Then you see the folly of believing that the section with which the bugler was could have moved along the ridge; they couldn't have crossed between the Ghazees and the trench. They'd have been exposed to our own fire in the rear."
He added more to much the same effect, and concluded: "I think that disposes of Mrs. Chudleigh's theory."
Challoner made a sign of agreement without speaking, and Blake, lighting a fresh cigar, leaned back in his chair. He believed he had succeeded so far, but he was feeling the strain.
"Now I'll deal with Clarke's suggestion; it's certainly ingenious," he said presently and began to rearrange the chessmen.
Proceeding much as he had already done, he followed the movements of the pieces with short explanations, and when he finally swept them up into a heap looked hard at his companion.
"I think you ought to be convinced," he said.