Hildenheim's looks had grown blacker and blacker as Burton spoke.
"It is a trick!" he burst out in a voice hoarse with rage. "It is against ze law of nations. Zere shall be reprisals. You make var prisoners vork to blow up zeir allies; you----"
"Nothing of the sort," Burton interrupted sharply. "You removed the dynamite for your own safety; you are at liberty to bring it back, and take the consequences. You must decide at once."
This reduced the German to silence.
"Was giebt es?" asked Schwartzkopf, evidently puzzled by the captain's agitation.
When Hildenheim had explained, the major came to a decision with great alacrity. It would be absurd to reject the chance of escaping with a whole skin. There was a short excited colloquy between the two Germans. Then Hildenheim sullenly announced their acquiescence, and they followed Burton and the woman up the stairs. When a passage had been opened in the entrance, the three prisoners made to issue together.
"Not so fast--one at a time, if you please," said Burton, anxious not to leave the tower himself. "The major first; turn to the right, that's your way. The woman will escort you."
At another time he might have been amused at the sight of the German hastening towards the wall with an effort to maintain his dignity, Nuta following with pointed revolver a couple of yards behind. But the situation was too tense for amusement. He was on thorns; at any moment warning shots might recall him to his post, and the mine had still to be completed. The instant the Bulgar, last of the three, reached the wall, Burton hurried into the cellar. He laid the cotton train on the floor of the tunnel, kindling its nearer end. At the farther end he upturned the open box of dynamite, placed a few cartridges at the extremity of the train, and packed the remaining boxes closely one upon another, so that the space between the floor and the roof was completely blocked. Then with feverish haste he scraped up loose earth from the floor, and dug stones out of the wall with his knife, and heaped them up against the boxes, so as to minimise the effect of the explosion towards the cellar. On his return he saw that the cotton appeared to be burning satisfactorily, and regained the roof of the tower after an absence of little more than twenty minutes.
The situation had apparently not changed. All was quiet. None of the enemy in the vicinity of the tower were in sight, but the columns were steadily rolling up the track in the far distance. A little later, however, there was a sudden rush from behind the rocks, accompanied by a hot fusillade. Bulgarian infantry swarmed up the track, and though many of them fell to the three rifles, many more got through, stumbling over the bodies of the fallen, and joined their comrades in the shelter of the bushes. Nuta had come up, and as the rifles became hot, she replaced them with fresh weapons.
The enemy advanced in an unending stream for five or six minutes. The crackle of rifle shots mingled with shouts and screams. Then at the blast of a whistle all movement ceased.