In the succeeding night the ground was further opened for 200 yards, but a sortie obstructed the operation; and on the return of the Russians they coolly bore away with them, as trophies of their boldness, between forty and fifty unwieldy gabions to embody in their own defences. On the 13th the enemy’s fire on the extended parallel was so annoying the linesmen were withdrawn, leaving two brigades of sappers to continue the work, but they, too, were eventually recalled to save them from unnecessary danger. Night after night the work on this long lean arm of the parallel was pushed forward, and as much accomplished in daylight as the Russian fire permitted. Much blasting was required to deepen and widen the trench, and on several occasions none but sappers could be allotted for the work. Once, when so disposed—the sappers being concealed behind a bend of the revetment—some Russian riflemen stole up in daylight to the head of the trench and rolled from the trace several baskets, which they bore away as far as they were able. Nothing could have been more tantalizing than this audacious proceeding, but there was no help for it, as the sappers were unarmed. Gabions being scarce, cover was obtained by building strong stone rubble walls. With entire success and without material loss, though close to the enemy’s riflemen and exposed to shot, shells, and grape, the Anglo-French parallels were connected on the 17th March. A few days prior to the union of the international trenches, Captain Craigie of the Engineers was killed. He was returning with his sappers from the 21-gun battery, and had reached the middle ravine, when a shell from the Malakoff burst in the air, and a splinter striking him in the back he fell dead. He was preceded by his bugler—Armstrong—and followed by corporals Kester Knight and John Rowley. When the shell burst, the two non-commissioned officers, seeing the splinter coming, moved on either side, and it passed between their heads, fatally alighting on the Captain. His party carried his body to the camp, and he was mourned by the men as an officer whose kindness had been shown to them in a thousand inobtrusive ways. Just before he dropped he had been conversing with his non-commissioned officers on the best mode of avoiding an exploded shell, but a bursting missile defies all theory and experience, and makes the escape of life depend not on the adroitness of poor humanity, but the will of Providence. The fourth company, which the captain had commanded for several years, and over whose interests he had watched as a friend and father, erected a small monumental cross to his memory at the spot where his remains were interred.[173] Private Henry Masters was wounded on the 14th.