I thought I heard breathing. I stood stock still, and strained my eyes on every side till they ached as if they would burst from their sockets. I was trying to catch the reflection of some stray beam of light from the eyes of a man or the barrel of an automatic, but I do not believe that so much as a pin point of light was diffused in that whole black pit. Suddenly I almost laughed aloud, although I knew that to do so might mean instant death. The breathing that I heard was my own. Cautiously I thrust out my foot to descend another step. There was a shout outside. "Run to the door quickly," Troolan was yelling. I leaped up the stairway regardless of what might be behind me and dashed toward the kitchen door to get outside the house. Just as I did so, I saw a shadow flit along the ground past the kitchen window. Guessing where the man must be who cast it, I fired through the wooden wall of the kitchen at about the height of the average man's breast. Then in a couple of bounds I was outside. There stood Troolan looking very much surprised and grieved when he saw me. His rifle was half drawn up to his shoulder, and he was in the attitude of getting ready to fire. Perspiration broke out on my forehead. I realised that the shadow had been Troolan's and from the look of him I had come very nigh to killing him. "What the h---- was that for, ye muckle galoot?" he threw at me. "I saw a shadow," I said, "and let drive." "Ye're an auld wife, that's what ye' are," said Troolan disgustedly, "a'firin' after shadows." "Never mind now," I said, "what did you see?" "I saw a big boche," said my scouting partner, "or, at least, I thocht I did. Maybe I've been takin' you fur him the same as you did me." "Maybe," I said, "but the best plan is for you to watch this house while I go and report." "All right," said Troolan. I started away. I had not gone a dozen paces when I heard scuffling behind me. I turned round and started to run back at the same instant. What I saw lent speed to my feet. The helmet of a German officer was just coming through a window. Troolan, who had evidently been concealed from the German's view, was aiming a blow at his head with the butt of his rifle. As usual, Troolan had lacked finesse. He had rushed so clumsily to the attack that both the officer and I had heard him. The German dodged just in time to evade the blow, and Troolan's rifle banged the window sill.