Paul did not answer. Faintly I heard a “wheeoo, wheeoo, wheeoo,” that grew louder and louder and ended in a swishing roar like a big wave breaking against an esplanade--and then “wump--wump--wump--wump” four 4·2’s exploded beyond the parados of Park Lane. “Well over,” said Edwards. “I expected this,” I answered. “They’ve been too d--d quiet all day--especially after the pounding we gave them last night.” “There they are again,” I added. This time I had heard the four distant thuds, and we all waited. “Wump, wump--CRUMP.” There was a colossal din, the two candles went out, and there was a shaking and jarring in the blackness. Then followed the sound of falling stuff, and I felt a few patters of earth all over me. Gradually it got lighter, and through the smoke-filled doorway the square of daylight reappeared. “Je ne l’aime pas,” said I, as we all waited, without speaking. Then Edwards struck a match and lit the candles; all the table, floor, and beds were sprinkled with dust and earth. Then Davies burst in. “Are you all right?” we asked. “Yessir. Are you?” “Oh, we’re all right, Davies,” said I. “But there’s a job for Lewis cleaning this butter up.” At length we went outside, stepping over a heap of loose yielding earth, mixed up with lumps of chalk and bits of frayed sand-bags. Outside, the trench was blocked with débris of a similar kind. Already two men had crossed it, and several men were about to do so. It was old already. There was still a smell of gunpowder in the air, and a lot of chalk dust that irritated your nose. “I think I’ll tell the sergeant-major not to get the working-party out just yet,” I said to Paul. “They often start like that and then put lots more over about a quarter of an hour later.” And I sped along Park Lane quickly. As I returned I heard footsteps behind me. I looked round, but the men were hidden by a traverse. And then came tragedy, sudden, and terrible. I have seen many bad sights--every man killed is a tragedy--but one avoids and hides away the hideousness as soon as possible. But never, save once perhaps, have I seen the thing so vile as now. “Look out!” I heard a voice from behind. And as I heard the shell screaming down, I tumbled into the nearest dug-out. The shell burst with a huge “crump,” but not so close as the one that had darkened our dug-out ten minutes before. Then again another four shells burst together, but some forty or fifty yards away. I waited one, two minutes. _And then I heard men running in the trench._ As I sprang up the dug-out steps, I saw two stretcher-bearers standing looking round the traverse. And then there was the faint whistling overhead and they pushed me back as they almost fell down the dug-out steps. “Is there a man hurt?” I asked. “We can’t leave him.” “He’s dead,” said one. And as he spoke there were three more explosions a little to the left. “Are you sure?” “Aye,” said the stretcher-bearer and closed his eyes tight.