"H2O!"
But after a minute he comes back with real water. Nobody utters a word while poor Charlie's nose is washed. At last the Colonel, much affected, says:
"He has finished swearing and laughing. Poor fellow, he has at last met his fate."
And solemnly—for he is a very religious man—he adds:
"May the Lord have mercy upon his soul."
Now, is it the Colonel's speech that rouses him, or is it the effect of the fresh water? But the answer comes at once:
"Nonsense!" says the Sergeant, "I am quite Hun-hurt!" and laughs once more. "Where am I? In hell?"
The Colonel takes flight, although, I repeat it, he is no coward.
I am back in my trench, and the time for being bored has come once more. So I return to Vienna and to Mitzi Doblana, with apologies to Bean in case of her ever reading this book.