nd.

"We've just a chance," he said--"if we ever get to the river. You can
swim under water?"

"Oh yes."

"Then keep as close to the bank as you can--the shots may go over you.
We'll get as near the blockhouses as we dare before we dive. Keep
close."

He was the better runner, and he drew ahead, Desmond hard at his
heels. The broad river gleamed in front--there were men with rifles
silhouetted against its silver. Then a merciful cloud-bank drifted
across the moon, and the shots whistled harmlessly in the sudden
darkness. Jim felt the edge of the bank under his feet.

"Dive!" he called softly.

He went in gently and Desmond followed with a splash. The sluggish
water was like velvet; the tide took them gently on, while they swam
madly below the surface.

Shouts ran up and down the banks. Searchlights from the blockhouses
lit the river, and the water was churned under a hail of machine-gun
bullets, with every guard letting off his rifle into the stream in the
hope of hitting something. The bombardment lasted for five minutes,
and then the officer in command gave the signal to cease fire.

"The pity is," he observed, "that we never get the bodies; the current
sees to that. But the swine will hardly float back to their England!"
He shrugged his shoulders. "That being settled, suppose we return to
supper?"

It might have hindered the worthy captain's enjoyment had he been able
to see a mud-bank fifty yards below the frontier, where two dripping
men looked at each other, and laughed, and cried, and wrung each
other's hands, and, in general, behaved like people bereft of reason.

"Haven't got a scratch, have you, you old blighter?" asked Jim
ecstatically.

"Not one. Rotten machine-gun practice, wasn't it? Sure you're all
right?"

"Rather! Do you realize you're in Holland?"

"Do you realize that no beastly Hun can come up out of nowhere and
take pot-shots at you?"

"It's not their pot-shots I minded so much," said Jim. "But to go
back to a prison-camp--well, shooting would be a joke to that. Oh, by
Jove, isn't it gorgeous!" They pumped hands again.

"Now, look here--we've got to be sober," Desmond said presently.
"Holland is all very well; I've heard it's a nice place for skating.
But neither of us has any wish to get interned here."

"Rather not!" said Jim. "I want to go home and get into uniform
again, and go hunting for Huns."

"Same here," said Desmond. "Therefore we will sneak along