"Cheer up, Ginger." He dropped his bantering tone. "I'll be up to drink a glass of wine with you to-morrow night in the new trench. Tell Latimer that the wire is all right--it's been thinned out and won't stop him, and that there are ladders for getting out of the trench on each traverse." "Have you been working?" I asked. "Four hours, and got caught by shrapnel in the middle. Night-night, and good luck, old man." He was gone; and when he had, I wished him back again. For the game wasn't new to him--he'd done it before; and I hadn't. It tends to give one confidence.... It was about four I woke up. For a few blissful moments I lay forgetful; then I turned and saw Hugh. There was a new candle in the bottle, and by its flicker I saw the glint in his sombre eyes, the clear-cut line of his profile. And I remembered.... I felt as if something had caught me by the stomach--inside: a sinking feeling, a feeling of nausea: and for a while I lay still. Outside in the darkness the men were rousing themselves; now and again a curse was muttered as someone tripped over a leg he didn't see; and once the Sergeant-Major's voice rang out--"'Ere, strike a light with them breakfasts." "Awake, Ginger?" Hugh prodded me with his foot. "You'd better get something inside you, and then we'll go round and see that everything is O.K." "Have you had any sleep, Hugh?" "No. I've been reading." He put Maeterlinck's "Blue Bird" on the table. With his finger on the title he looked at me musingly, "Shall we find it to-day, I wonder?" * * * * *