"You have done well, Antoine. Shall you dig in until morning or go over the top now?"
"As you say, sir. It's better you should take charge."
I walked round the garden and found his men well distributed, but the old fellows were exceedingly nervous. "It's a bit suspicious, sir, that he broke for the garden," remarked Antoine.
"He broke for the garden," I suggested, "because his line of retreat was cut off and he had to go somewhere."
"It's queer, though, sir, when Dutch has been sleeping on the long bench down there by the fountain. You know how we feel about him, sir, he being of that race."
"Dutch told me he was camping in the tool-house," I answered.
"The boys drove him out, sir, and he took to the garden."
"Nasty of the boys, I should say. If that interloper should murder him——"
A yell rose from the midst of the garden, followed by a crash and an instant later by a splash that interrupted another yell. I snatched Antoine's lantern and ran down the steps toward the scene of commotion. When I reached the circular pool the jet was still playing gayly, but the waters on one side were in furious agitation. Two men were rolling and tumbling about as though bent upon drowning each other. I swung the lantern over them just as Dutch got upon his feet, gripping his antagonist by the collar. He flung him backward over the stone curbing of the pool and fell upon him in the walk with a swish of wet garments. The guards from the outer edges of the garden had clambered down and they gathered about us as I began questioning Dutch.
Dutch, undoubtedly enjoying his victorious encounter, was tearing open the prostrate captive's collar to give him air and with his knees clamping the man's body was disposed to delay the story of his adventures to increase its dramatic effect.