Pariset smiled, and was beginning a chaffing remark when he was hailed from behind. Turning, he saw that the officers had reined up, and turned their horses’ flanks towards him. He hurried back, Kenneth taking a step or two in the same direction. "Lieutenant Pariset, I understand?" he heard the general say. "I compliment you on your little exploit. You did very well; thank you!" Pariset murmured something, saluted again, and the officers rode off. "He didn’t give me time to tell him about you," said Pariset, rejoining his friend. "He is evidently in a hurry to get back to Fort Loncin." "It doesn’t matter about me," said Kenneth. "How did he know about it at all?" "He must have got the news by telegram or wireless from Charleroi. But really it was your doing, you know. I must make that clear." "Don’t talk rubbish! I only gave you the information. I liked the look of him. What keen eyes he has!" "He’s a splendid fellow. But come along! Our men are a hungry lot, and I don’t want to find the board cleared." They were sitting at lunch among a group of cheery young officers when a bugle rang out. The officers sprang up, seized their arms, and rushed out of the cottage. "The Germans are coming on again," cried Pariset. "Come and see." They ran back towards the trenches, which were already filling with riflemen. A deep boom sounded from some distant spot. "A German gun!" said Pariset. "I don’t see the shell," said Kenneth, looking round. "My dear fellow, it had fallen somewhere before we heard the sound. Ah! the forts are replying." In a few minutes the silence of the summer noon was shattered by the continuous thunder of artillery. With the deep slow booms of the big guns was mingled the quicker, sharper bang of machine guns somewhere out of sight. "Get down, you asses!" cried an officer, as they drew near to the trenches. "Do you want to be marked?" They took cover behind a hedge. Kenneth tingled from top to toe as he heard the crash of the guns, and felt the earth and the very air shake with the concussion. Presently a shrill whistle sounded; it was followed almost instantaneously by a prolonged crackle, which had hardly died away when from above them came a zip, zip, zip, like the notes of some tuneless bird. "The Germans are firing anyhow," said Pariset in an involuntary whisper. Round the hedge came swiftly two men in blue coats with the red cross on their sleeves, carrying an ambulance. A groan rose from it. "I can’t stand this," said Pariset.