Meanwhile the throb of motors overhead grew louder and louder.
“Well?” came the officer's voice.
“Couldn't find them, sir,” mumbled the other voice.
“Nonsense. Those men were drunk,” came the officer's voice.
“Yes, sir,” came the other voice humbly.
Chrisfield started to giggle. He felt he must yell aloud with laughter.
The nearest motor stopped its singsong roar, making the night seem deathly silent.
Andrews jumped to his feet.
The air was split by a shriek followed by a racking snorting explosion. They saw the wall above their pit light up with a red momentary glare.
Chrisfield got to his feet, expecting to see flaming ruins. The village street was the same as ever. There was a little light from the glow the moon, still under the horizon, gave to the sky. A window in the house opposite showed yellow. In it was a blue silhouette of an officer's cap and uniform.