t and hastily fitted a
new glass, pausing every few moments to bob his head up over the
parapet and glance hastily across at the German trench. A second time
he raised his instrument to position and in less than a minute it was
shot away for a second time.

The Artillery officer came hurrying and stumbling back along the
trench, his telephonist labouring behind him. They stopped at the
place where they had tapped in before and the telephonist busied
himself connecting up his instrument. The Artillery officer flung
himself down beside the Platoon commander. 'My confounded wire cut
again,' he panted, 'just when I want it too. Sounds as if they meant a
rush, eh?' The infantryman nodded. 'Will they stop shelling before
they rush?' he shouted.

'Not till their men are well out in front. Their guns can keep going
over their heads for a bit. Are you through, Jackson? Tell the
Battery to "eyes front." It looks like an attack.'

The telephonist repeated the message, listened a moment and commenced,
'The Major says, sir----' when his officer interrupted sharply, 'Three
rounds gun-fire--quick.'

'Three rounds gun-fire--quick, sir,' bellowed the telephonist into his
mouthpiece.

'Here they come, lads. Let 'em have it,' yelled the Platoon commander,
and commenced himself to fire through a loophole.

At the same moment there came from the rear the quick thudding reports
of the British guns, the rush of their shells overhead, and the sharp
crash of their shells over the German parapets.

'All fired, sir,' called the telephonist.

'Battery fire one second,' the Observing Officer shouted without
turning his head from his watch over the parapet.

'Number one fired--two fired--three fired,' the signaller called
rapidly, and the Observing Officer watched narrowly the white
cotton-wool clouds of the bursting shrapnel of his guns.

'Number three, ten minutes more right--all guns, drop
twenty-five--repeat,' he ordered, and in swift obedience the guns began
to drop their shrapnel showers, sweeping along the ground in front of
the German trench.

But the expected rush of Germans hung fire. A line of bobbing heads
and shoulders had showed above their parapet and only a few scattered
groups had clambered over its top.

'They're beat,' shouted the infantry officer, exultingly. 'They're
dodging back. Give it to 'em, boys--give it--_ow_!' He broke off and
ducked down with a hand clapped to his cheek where a bullet had