Imperceptibly but steadily, the light spread throughout the sky, and finally a cold, cheerless glimmer was descending into the valleys, bringing the surroundings very plainly into view. Once more the serpent-like line of camions had come to a halt. Not a driver could be seen, all evidently having sought safety in the abris along the roadside. Don Hale felt an almost irresistible impulse to do the same, but, manfully setting such thoughts aside, he stuck to his post.
At last the car was chugging its way up the slope of the final hill. Now the tops of the gaunt, scarred trees above stood out clearly against the rapidly-lightening sky. Gleams of somber gray were penetrating into the forest and formless shadows began to assume definite shapes. All nature appeared in its most sad and melancholy aspect. The dripping, water-soaked vegetation reflected the dull leaden gray of the clouds overhead; rivulets were still trickling down the hill and huge puddles and pools lay on all sides, as reminders of the recent storm. There is always a certain solemnity about the awakening of day, and this particular dawn seemed to be one of the most impressive the young ambulancier had ever known. He could not help picturing in his mind the awful scenes which must be taking place along the battle-front, yet, wrought up as were his nerves, thoughts of Chase Manning almost constantly came to his mind. Had anything happened to him? Where was he? What wouldn't he have given to know!
The last stretch was probably the most terrible of all. Shells were actually landing all about the road. Like avalanches, the upheaved earth and stones and trees came crashing downward, though, amid the terrible roar, no sounds of their falling could be heard.
Now that the light was stronger, Don Hale, his face bathed in perspiration, drove recklessly; and Number Eight, like a marathon sprinter on the final lap, wobbled, staggered and shook as it bowled over the last few yards of the main road and turned into the spur which led to the abri.
"Great Julius Cæsar! I am actually here!" cried Don.
The car stopped with a jerk, and in another second he was on the ground, running with all speed toward the shelter.
With every ounce of his strength he pounded on the door.
It was almost immediately opened, and Don Hale, the youngest ambulancier in the Red Cross service, almost fell inside.