-" And he made an expressive wave of his hand in the direction of
the German trenches.

"If Monsieur le Commandant has no objection, and somebody will lend me a
revolver, I should love to take part with the battalion that was going
to shoot me," laughed the boy.

"_Cher ami!_" cried the black-bearded officer. "You heap the coals of
fire upon my head. You and I will march together!"

While Dennis swallowed a cup of coffee the commandant dived into his
dug-out and reappeared with a revolver case, which he buckled on the
boy with his own hands; and meanwhile the little group at the wood fires
had snatched up their rifles and donned their blue-painted steel
helmets, and were falling in by companies, eager to exchange the
monotony of trench warfare for a brisk dash at the hated foe.

The Alsatian corporal, a typical poilu, still kept very close to his
late prisoner, but there was an altogether different look in his eyes
now.

"I should never have forgiven myself, mon lieutenant," he blurted out,
as he slung his rifle behind his back and festooned himself with racket
bombs. "I hope monsieur will bear me no ill will for my stupidity."

"It is nothing, my friend," said Dennis laughing. "A brave man should do
what he thinks to be his duty, and you did yours. What is the distance
to the enemy trench?"

"About a hundred metres, mon lieutenant," replied the corporal, "and
uphill all the way. _Voila!_ There goes the signal!"

A low blast on a whistle, and the long grey-blue line went quickly
forward among the trees, and jumped down into the deep excavation which
wound like a dirty white ribbon along the outskirts of the wood.

The 75's were barking loudly in their rear, the shells now falling
behind the enemy trench, the sandbags of which showed in an irregular
line on the slope against the sunrise.

The _liaison_ officer had come with them thus far, and was looking at
his watch.

"_Bon chance_, lieutenant," he said. "Unhappily, I may only see the
attack launched, but I hope this will not be our last meeting."

"My boys, it is time!" cried the commandant. "_En avant!_" And, climbing
swiftly over their parapet, the active little poilus scampered up the
hill through the yellow charlock.

Half-way up every man flung himself flat upon his face, and looking
back, Dennis saw the second line coming over to their support. Again the
whistle sounded, the little blue figures jumped up, scurrying like
rabbits, and the machine-gu