Phil and his friends lay flat upon their faces, while the Russians in the other pits for the most part fled for their lives. Those who did not were bayoneted. "Hallo, come out of it, you skulkers!" a voice cried; and, looking up, Phil caught sight of the figures of English soldiers at the mouth of the pit. "Don't fire," he shouted, "we are friends. We are escaping prisoners." "Now, then, none of yer sauce," the same voice answered wrathfully. "Most like you're deserters. Out yer come and let's take a look at yer." In a trice they were dragged ignominiously from the pit. "Why, what's this?" the sergeant, who had charge of the party, exclaimed. "The light's bad, but blow me if there ain't two British officers here. Get round 'em, boys, and bring 'em along." With a rush the group of soldiers returned, bearing Phil and his friends with them. "Now, send along that lamp," cried the sergeant, as soon as they were safely sheltered by the earthworks. "Blow me, but I'm right. They're Britishers or I'm a wrong 'un," he cried, lifting the lantern to their faces. "Hi, pass the word to Mr Ellis there." A moment later an officer came hurrying along. "What is all this commotion about?" he asked sharply. "The whole camp is disturbed, and you seem to have made a sortie, Sergeant." "Quite right, sir! There was a bit of a ruction over in them rifle-pits, and as I knew you was anxious to teach them Russians a lesson, and the boys was mad to get at 'em, why, we did a rush and cleared 'em out like rats. We found these three there. They said they were escaping prisoners, so we brought 'em along." "Who are you, then?" asked the officer, examining them by the aid of his lantern. "Why, bless my life if it isn't Western, reported drowned at sea!" he exclaimed with a start. "You're like a jack-in-the-box, Western. Who are your friends?" Phil mentioned their names. "We had a near squeak for it," he said faintly. "By the way, Ellis, is there a doctor near? McNeil is in need of dressing, and I fear I have got a bullet in my ribs." That was the case. At the first outburst of firing, a bullet had struck him in the side like a sledge-hammer, but Phil kept his groans to himself. Now, however, when all need for further silence and exertion had passed, he sat down suddenly, and went off into a dead faint, frightening poor Tony almost out of his life. A few drops of brandy were forced between his teeth, and by the time he had been placed on a blanket he was conscious again. Then he was carried with great gentleness up to the field-hospital. "Another bullet wound, my lad," said the surgeon kindly. "That makes the fifth I have seen already to-night. Let me have a look at it;" and with the greatest sympathy and gentleness he removed Phil's clothing and examined the wound.