«Hush! no, no — it's the water,» said Lord Peter with chattering teeth, «it's up to their waists down there, poor devils. But listen! can't you hear it? Tap, tap, tap — they're mining us — but I don't know where — I can't hear — I can't. Listen, you! There it is again — we must find it — we must stop it… Listen! Oh, my God! I can't hear — I can't hear anything for the noise of the guns. Can't they stop the guns?»
«Oh, dear!» said Mr. Bunter to himself. «No, no — it's all right, Major — don't you worry.»
«But I hear it,» protested Peter.
«So do I,» said Mr. Bunter stoutly; «very good hearing, too, my lord. That's our own sappers at work in the communication trench. Don't you fret about that, sir.»
Lord Peter grasped his wrist with a feverish hand.
«Our own sappers,» he said; «sure of that?»
«Certain of it,» said Mr. Bunter, cheerfully.
«They'll bring down the tower,» said Lord Peter.
«To be sure they will,» said Mr. Bunter, «and very nice, too. You just come and lay down a bit, sir — they've come to take over this section.»
«You're sure it's safe to leave it?» said Lord Peter.