"North," she said in a steady voice. She was terribly pale.
He went to the parapet and looked over, half wondering, perhaps, whether he would receive a rifle shot through the head.
Far below at the foot of the bell-tower the dimly discerned Nivelle redoubt, swarming with men, was being armed; and, to the south, wired he thought, but could not see distinctly.
Then, as the dusk of early dawn grew greyer, the first rifle shots rattled out in the west. The French salient was saluting the wire-stringers.
Back under shelter they tumbled; whistles sounded distantly; a trench mortar crashed; then the accentless tattoo of machine guns broke from every emplacement.
"The east is turning a little yellow," he said calmly. "I believe this matter is going through.[pg 253] Toss some dust into the air. Which way?"
"North," said the girl.
"Good. I think they're placing their cylinders. I think I can see them laying their coils. I'm certain of it. What luck!"
The airman was becoming excited and his voice trembled a little with the effort to control it.
"It's growing pink in the east. Try a handful of dust again," he suggested almost gaily.