A few minutes later I chanced to notice a figure sitting leisurely in a shell-hole. "Why, Septimus, is that you?" "I think so; I say, I think so. Unearthly row; devilishly dangerous place, this--what?" "But what are you doing in there?" "I was just coming to talk to you about ammunition. A shell burst, and my face is simply covered with dust. Has the ammunition arrived yet?" "No; there's an ammunition dump in the wood somewhere." "Like me to go and find it?" I looked at him in amazement. It wasn't funk then, that made him seek safety in that shell-hole. Was it possible that dear old Septimus, this bland, indifferent tubby, blasé old thing of Bond Street, was anxious to go into that creepy, mysterious wood to look for ammunition? "All right; take a corporal and 12 men, and bring back six boxes. Don't take unnecessary risks; we shall need every man to-morrow." Septimus sprang out of the shell-hole, saluted in the most correct manner--something quite new for him--and disappeared in the darkness. This was a new side of Septimus's character which had not shown itself before. Only the stoutest heart would have chosen to wander about in that wood at midnight, with enemy patrols lurking about. Septimus was a man, after all. Five minutes later he passed me, leading his men. He gripped my hand as he passed, with the remark: "Well! Ta-ta, old thing." "Cheer oh!" And Septimus was gone. We may call men fops, simple vacant fools, or what we like; but the war has proved over and over again that the man within the man is merely disguised by his outer covering. Many a Bond Street Algy, or ballroom idol has proved amidst the terrors of war that the artificial covering of a peace-time habit is but skin-deep; and the real man is underneath. CHAPTER XIII A NIGHT OF ALARM SEPTIMUS IN A NEW RÔLE. SAVING THE AMMUNITION. THE LAST CARTRIDGE Just then a movement in the rear of my position attracted my attention. A number of men were approaching; then halting, they sat on the ground, while two figures continued on towards me. They were Second Lieutenant Wade, the intrepid scout officer, and Second Lieutenant Brady, in command of the battalion bombers. It was Brady who spoke first: "Hullo! Getting peppered pretty hot, aren't you?" "Rather lively! Where are you off to?" "I've got orders to bomb out that mysterious trench you've heard so much about, in order to clear the way for your attack to-morrow. I'm going in front of your line and along the edge of the wood." I despatched a runner to warn the sentry groups, and presently the little group of bombers disappeared round the edge of the wood into the darkness on their adventurous errand, the success of which would mean so much to me on the morrow. All this time the work of digging is continued with unabated anxiety, shells dropping around unceasingly.