i.

"And which way?"

"Which way? Any way! Straight ahead! The noise of rifles is getting
closer, so that any way is likely to lead to the spot we're seeking."

"Then you think he has gone towards the fighting?" asked Jules.

"Yes!" came abruptly from Henri. "He's sneaking up behind our fellows,
I feel sure. From what I've seen of this Max, this German, I feel
positive that he'll think of escape last of all. To do him bare
credit, he'll consider his own safety only when he's done his worst to
our people. Let's push on! We've got to get to the beggar."

Glancing about them doubtfully for a second or two, they finally chose
a central opening, only to be forced to turn back when they had
progressed a dozen yards, for a fall of masonry blocked egress.
Returning, therefore, to the hall, they skirted the edge of that giant
pit the shell had burrowed through the flooring, and entered another
gallery, where, attracted by loud shouts ahead and by heavy firing,
they pushed on as fast as they were able.

Meanwhile; outside, the combat had for the moment subsided, for the
dash of the 20th Corps of those gallant Bretons had taken them right up
to the trenches hitherto held by that thin band of noble _poilus_ who
had sustained and held off the first German onslaught. The Bretons,
indeed, were now repairing, in furious haste, and consolidating the
trenches running along the edge of the plateau of Douaumont right up to
the eastern corner of the fort, almost, in fact, surrounding the
fortress and cutting it off from the Germans.

Yet a portion of the works projected beyond them to the east, and there
an underground passage gave shelter to the Brandenburgers, and, indeed,
allowed the enemy to reinforce their troops still holding a portion of
the interior. Elsewhere there was little fighting; for on the Cote du
Poivre and the Cote de Talou no German attack was possible, French guns
on Mort Homme and Hill 304 still commanding every avenue of approach,
and already having given the Germans practical, if dreadful, evidence
of their deadly work. But along the whole line shells still plunged
about the positions held by our allies, and, as the snowflakes whirled
and the wind swept first from this quarter and then from another, the
distant thud of cannon came in one low, continuous, muttering roar,
which never stopped, and which for seven days now had gone on
practically without intermission.

Pushing along that gallery, stumb