r on there came to the young lieutenant, who was the only officer
left in A company, two dusty, fierce-eyed little men who had gone
through the burden and heat of the day without a scratch, although their
bayonets were red enough.

And they had begged leave to go and search for Captain Dashwood and
Dennis, and the young lieutenant had choked audibly as he refused the
permission.

"Yes, I know, Hawke," he had replied to their earnestly repeated
entreaties. "But I'm acting under strict orders. Not a man is to cross
the parapet on any consideration whatever. If we're counter-attacked
before reinforcements arrive, Heaven help us!"

Then the two fierce-eyed little men had gone away, having apparently
accepted the inevitable, and neither had said a word until they reached
the far end of the trench.

"Tiddler?"

"I should bloomin' well think so, 'Arry!"

That was all, but it was enough; and that was how Harry Hawke and his
bosom pal came to be wandering under the eastern wall of the deserted
brewery after a fruitless search among those khaki heaps that lay so
still in front of the German wire.

For three hours they had crawled backwards and forwards, questioning the
wounded and giving a hand where they could with the field dressing, but
always receiving the same reply.

At length one man told them that the German stretcher-bearers had come
out and carried some bodies away, but they had been recalled before they
reached him, and there had been a great skedaddling from the building in
front. He had heard them removing machine-guns; he could swear to that.

"Come on, Tid!" said Harry Hawke. "We may find them in there. It is our
last chance."

They were working their way very carefully along the wall when a
star-shell of unusual brilliancy burst, and Hawke jumped forward,
gripping his rifle.

"Swop my goodness! Tiddler!" he cried, with a fierce chuckle, "here's a
bloomin' Allemong trying to escape! You've left it a bit too late,
sonny!" And he lunged upwards at the dangling figure in the light of the
star-shell!

CHAPTER XXI

Von Dussel's Revenge

It was not a moment in which to mince matters, and Dennis drew up his
legs with a yell.

"Don't play the giddy ox, Hawke. Where are your eyes?" he shouted, as
the point of the bayonet grazed his brown gaiter; and then, in spite of
the terrible danger overhanging them all, Dennis laughed oddly as his
sworn admirer recovered his weapon, and the star-shell went