Now, this is not all I have to report of yesterday's memorable evening. I am sure you wish to know all about the night expedition of your four friends. You shall have what you want.
There is to the north-east of our trench a little wood. The colonel wanted to know what was in that wood, whether it was fortified and how. Our aeroplanes had been unable to give any information, nor had our listening posts achieved any result. So there was but one way: by scouting.
Well, as soon as night had come we crawled out of our trench, armed to the teeth, and after an hour's crawling we reached the edge of the forest. To say that it was an easy job would be an unnecessary exaggeration, for there were German search-lights unceasingly licking the ground. Yet there was always time when we saw the lights creeping nearer, to lie still for an instant and to pretend that we were corpses.
"Can't you see," said Pringle once quite aloud, as the ray was just resting on his body, "that I'm dead? What's the use of your lights having glasses?"
Charlie began to laugh, so that if the beam by any chance had touched him, he would certainly have been detected.
"Mind you," said I, "the blooming thing is wavering."
"La donna è mobile," sang Charlie softly and added: "It's Hun-steady."
"Shut up, Sergeant," said Pringle, "it's foolish to joke now."
"Hun-reasonable, you mean. Let's go on."