Without waiting for an answer M'Turk crawled to within arm's length of the lad and grasped him by the arm. As he did so the subsidence increased, and, amidst a shower of soil, the two riflemen found themselves falling through the air.
Both uttered an exclamation of horrified surprise, not knowing at that stage if they were hurtling into a deep abyss to be dashed to pieces at the bottom. Anticipating the worst, they were agreeably relieved to find that they had dropped only ten or twelve feet, and had alighted upon a pile of soft material that proved to be a stack of folded blankets.
"It's all right, sir," shouted Malcolm.
"Where are you?" enquired Captain Nicholson, crawling cautiously along the newly-excavated gallery.
"That's more than I can say, sir," replied Carr. "We're in the dark absolutely."
Having tested the ground at the edge of the hole, Captain Nicholson flashed his torch into the dug-out into which the two riflemen had fallen.
"By Jove," he exclaimed, "you've found a way out! I won't join you just yet. Stand by while I drop some candles and matches; then have a look round and report. See if there's a ladder available."
The torch was switched off and the two riflemen waited in utter darkness.
"I'm beginning to fancy I'm a blessed mole!" remarked M'Turk. "Twice I've been buried in our own dug-out. First time wasn't much to speak of; but Plug Street--ugh! For five mortal hours I was pinned down, the Huns strafing all the time, and the water rising up through the dirt that covered me up to my chin. And, as if I hadn't had enough, one of the boys who were digging me out must needs drive a pick through my calf. After all," he added, "it was worth it. I got six months in Blighty, and haven't had the same luck since. I'd give five pounds for old Fortyscrew's buckshie. Guess he's having a fair holiday by now."
"Fortescue was hit only quite recently," said Malcolm. "I met him on my way up."