“That’s six, anyhow, and we’ve had quite a few additional hits, according to the shouting,” Rex grinned. “I’ll say there’s not many of the bunch haven’t got sore spots some place.”
“The advantage of fighting upon interior lines,” De Richleau smiled in spite of his pain. “Or shall we say ’a demonstration of the superiority of the defensive when using modern weapons’.”
“That’s the idea. It’s good to hear you talking again like that.” Rex peered from the window. “I’d like to know what these birds are up to, all the same.”
After the almost continuous firing the silence was uncanny. “Perhaps,” De Richleau suggested, “they have gone for reinforcements; the air-park can’t be more than a mile away. They will return with machineguns and a searchlight!”
“It’ll be the end of the party if they do. I guess we’d better get out of this while the going’s good.”
“Yes, no good waiting to be shot like rats in a trap. Let’s try our luck!”
They moved towards the door. No sound came from below. De Richleau swore softly. “How these stairs creak.”
“Which way?” said Rex, when they reached the bottom. “Better go by the garden and see if we can’t pick Simon up.”
“No,” said the Duke miserably; “it’s useless. If he’s not dead or captured, he’ll have reached the cottage by now. There is more cover in front; we can work our way round by the outhouses.”
With the greatest precautions they stole along the passage to the big roofless hall, pausing a full minute before they crossed it. Not a sound met their ears; the great entrance door stood wide open.