"Yes, a youngster," Fitzgerald answered, lifting the rum reverently to his lips and rolling it round in his mouth. "He was caught on a listening patrol. Wounded and unconscious. I've got to wait here until he recovers, hear what he has to say, and report back to Captain Thorley with any information. You know we fear a mine going up at the sap, for all day and night we can hear tapping under the ground." Fitzgerald held out his mess-tin again and received another tot of rum. Then he lit a cigarette. "There's nothing like a drop of rum," he remarked. "It's 'health to the navel and marrow to the bones,' as the Scripture has it." The hut laughed. "What about a song, Fitz?" Flanagan asked. "An old Irish one; a come-all-you." "Nell Flaherty's Drake?" said Fitz in a tone of enquiry. The rum had put him in gay good humour. "Spit it out," Flanagan yelled. Fitzgerald commenced the song. "My name it is Nell, the truth for to tell, I live near Coothill, which I'll never deny, I had a fine drake, the truth for to spake, Which my grandmother left me before she did die. "He was wholesome and sound and could weigh forty pound, The wide world round I would roam for his sake, But bad luck to the robber be he drunk or sober, Who murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake. "May his temples wear horns and all his toes corns, May he always be fed on lobcourse and fish-oil, May he ne'er go to bed till the moment he's dead, May his cow never milk, may his kettle never boil." "That's the supreme curse, I think," Fitzgerald remarked, smiling lazily. "'May his kettle never boil'! Think of that--in Ireland, where the teapot's as greedy as the grave." "Is that the end of the song?" a soldier asked from the corner. "Only the first three verses," Fitzgerald replied. "There are forty verses in the song, but I forget the rest. My memory!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet. "Good God! I forget everything, my memory is my curse.... Who has got a cigarette to spare?" At that moment an orderly came to the door and shouted out: "D Company runner." "I'm D Company runner," Fitzgerald remarked. "Report to headquarters immediately," said the orderly. "Also Rifleman Flanagan to report. Two men must take the message." "I'm there," said Fitzgerald, turning to Flanagan and asking: "Can I have another cigarette before we go?" He got another cigarette, placed it in his cap and accompanied by Flanagan went out into the open and across to headquarters dug-out. The adjutant was inside sitting at a table, a cup of tea and a box of cigarettes in front of him. He knew Fitzgerald very well, having met him in civil life.