"You've been seeing things," he remarked, but to satisfy his curiosity he raised his head above the parapet and peered into the gloom just then a star-shell burst overhead, its glare throwing every object on the immediate front into strong relief. The crater-pitted No Man's Land showed no sign If any movement. A score or more silent forms in field-grey uniform lay upon the ground--they had been there for the last three days. Not a trace Of a man in khaki was to be discovered.
"Come out of it, you chaps," continued the Sergeant. "You've made a mistake. Hop it!"
Malcolm and Selwyn obeyed promptly, and alighting upon the floor of the trench the latter cannoned into a passing soldier.
"Here, what the deuce do you think you're doing?" asked a well-known voice, despite its tone of plaintive asperity.
"By gum, Fortescue," ejaculated Selwyn, "this is lucky! We've been looking for you."
"And so your search is rewarded," rejoined Fortescue. "What's the idea?"
"We thought we'd hang together when the stunt comes off," explained Malcolm. "But there's another thing. Our Muizenburg pal was here a few minutes ago."
"What?" exclaimed Fortescue incredulously.
"Fact!" confirmed his informant. "We asked if you were anywhere about, and the fellow we addressed happened to be Konrad von What's-his-name. He recognized us, for he impshied like a wild colt. I was----"
"Sergeant Fortescue here?"