After a wait of nearly ten minutes a rope was procured, while other willing helpers brought a number of short ladders to the mouth of the crater. These, lashed together, were lowered into the hole and allowed to rest upon the steeply sloping sides.
Down swarmed several men, not New Zealanders, but belonging to an Australian regiment. Foremost amongst them was Malcolm's Queensland chum on board the Pomfret Castle--big Jack Kennedy.
"Hallo, Digger!" exclaimed that worthy, recognizing Rifleman Carr in the candlelight. "What have you been doing? Cleaning out a chimney? You're as black as an aborigine."
"I hardly thought to run across you again," remarked Malcolm.
"The world is small," rejoined Kennedy. "We were on your right when the attack started. Your fellows have rushed Messines village and are holding all the captured positions. Who are your pals? Beg pardon, sir, I didn't know you were an officer!" (This to Captain Nicholson, who, owing to the dirt and grime in which he was smothered, was hardly distinguishable from the others.) "We'll give you a leg up."
"Hold on," protested Captain Nicholson. "There are two of our men who have to be brought along. They're rather shaken up. You'll want a ladder--Carr."
"Yes, sir," replied Malcolm.
"Will you show these men the way into the other dug-out?"
Saluting, Malcolm turned and made his way over the wrecked woodwork, three Australians following in his footsteps. Two of the latter carried a short ladder.
"Fortescue with you?" enquired Kennedy, as the men planted the ladder on the pile of earth that had fallen from the newly-excavated tunnel.