"In what way?" asked Leon.
"I don't know," said Dubois. "That's what I think though."
Armande was not dead however. A moment later Dubois heard his name called and the missing soldier slid over the parapet and into the trench once more. "Slid," expresses what he did exactly, for he shot forward head-first and fell in a heap on the bottom of the trench. He lay there moaning.
"Armande," cried Dubois bending over him. "What happened?"
"They got me," said the wounded soldier simply.
"Where? How?"
"In the leg. A machine-gun bullet."
"Where have you been?"
"Over to the German trenches. They shot me about half an hour ago and it has taken me all this time to get back here."
"Send word to the Red Cross," said Dubois to one of the men. "I wish I could do something for you," he added to his wounded comrade. "It is so dark here I cannot see a thing. Are you badly hurt?"