His cousin ducked his head and followed him down the three steps that led into the dug-out. "'Will you walk into my parlour, said the spider to the fly,'" murmured Dan Dunn. "Quite so," laughed Dennis. "But we haven't room for even a spider's web, though the rats are an infernal nuisance." "There are worse things in this world than rats," said his cousin, looking round at the little square cave excavated months before by the Germans in the chalky soil, and seating himself on one of the two cots. "Who's your room-mate?" "My brother Bob. He's our platoon commander, you know. He'll be in presently for tea. But, I say, isn't this just ripping?" "It's certainly better than Gallipoli," said Dunn with a quiet, retrospective smile. "Gad, Dennis, that was an awful hash up!" And he blew a cloud of tobacco smoke to circle upwards among the shelves and lockers, where all sorts of things were stowed away. "Beg pardon, sir," said Private Hawke, thrusting his head in at the door. "You didn't answer this gentleman's question. Does he want to come with us to-night?" "Oh, yes--did you mean that, Dan? It's like this," explained Dennis. "The Boches have been putting up some fresh wire over yonder, and they want to know at D.H.Q. whether it's permanent or temporary. I rather fancy there's a bit of a raid on the cards, and I'm going out to reconnoitre." "Do I mean it!" laughed his cousin. "As long as I report myself at sun-up it's all right." "Very well, Hawke, my cousin will go with us." "Then we'll only want one other man, sir, and I'll warn Tiddler. He can smell Germans in the dark." "That doesn't take much doing," smiled Dennis. "They're a filthy crowd, anyhow. Ten o'clock sharp! And ask Smithers if that kettle's boiling." Harry Hawke had scarcely removed his drab figure from the doorway when Captain Dashwood blotted out the light and dived in upon them with a dexterity born of much practice. His greeting with the Australian cousin was warm enough, but they both saw something unusual in his face as Dan squeezed up on the cot and made room for him. "Read this, Dennis," he said. "The mater's just sent it over," and he tossed Ottilie's farewell letter across the dug-out. "The pigs!" cried Dennis hotly. "I can't say it doesn't surprise me, because it does; but, you know, I never tumbled either to the man or to his sister. What does the governor say?"