"Wonder what they are waiting for?" said the boy, lighting a cigarette.
"Bringing up the guns, of course. It will be dark in an hour." The young C.O. gazed hopelessly to where the sun was already dropping to the cloud-capped western horizon, straining with ominous red the reedy pools before them.
"Moon will be up, though."
"All the better for them. I should give the village another two hours. And then——"
"You aren't going to surrender, surely?" There was the quiver of horror in the young voice.
They were interrupted by the C.S.M. of B Company.
"Not more than ten rounds a man, sir," he reported. "Machine-gun out of order." He made his report with the tranquil woodenness of his kind, without a quiver of voice or muscle. (If you say that it is impossible for me to know what these men said, or how they behaved, I can only reply that I have been through the same sort of thing myself.)
"Thanks, major. Men come in that were sounding the marsh?"
"Report there is no way across, sir."
"They certainly won't find one now it's getting dark. Better get back to your posts. They will begin again soon."