"You've got to live," said Winn, bending grimly over him; "You've got to live!"
A few hours later Winn went to see the general of his division. "I want you to let me have another twenty-four in, sir," he explained. "They won't expect an attack so soon. I know my men are not very fresh, but it'll wake them up. They've stood a good lot. I've been talking to 'em. They want to get a bit of their own back. That trench of theirs is too near us in any case. They'd be better pushed back."
The general hesitated, but Winn's fiery sunken eyes held and shook him.
"Well, Staines," he said, "you know what you can do with your men, of course. Have it your own way. When do you want to attack?"
"Soon as they've settled off to sleep," said Winn, "just to give 'em a night-cap."
"Don't lose too many men," said the general, "and above all come back yourself."
"That's as may be," said Winn. "If I can get the men over quietly in a bit of mist, I sha'n't lose too many of 'em. I've told them if they're too fagged to stand, they'd better fight. They quite agree about it."
Winn led the attack with the last of his strength, and in the fierceness of his rage with life.
A white fog hung over the fields like the shadow of a valley filled with snow.