Dennis said nothing. He was holding his head in both hands; that last explosion had left him more than ever convinced that it would fall into two halves if he were not very careful. And meanwhile, Von Dussel, with an evil grin, was making his way to the German headquarters to report to General Von Bingenhammer that an English shell had exploded the mine before the Anzac Division had reached the brewery. "Ah, you Dashwoods, you!" he murmured, rolling the name round his tongue as though it were a sweetmeat, "I should like to go to sleep, for I am very tired, but I should not like to be sleeping as sound as you. Himmel! You must have lived a lifetime in that last half-hour on earth!" Somewhere about the moment when the scoundrel was indulging in those pleasant reflections, Bob's bearers had reached the British parapet, and, helping the Captain over, they set him down for a moment with a grunt of relief. "I have no words for you, boys," he said. "But your devotion shall not be forgotten." "'Arf a mo, sir," interrupted Harry Hawke, with an expressive wink at Tiddler, and they had him up again between them in the twinkle of an eye. "No, no," expostulated Bob Dashwood. "I shall do very well now." "Yus, sir, but we shan't!" said Hawke, with a sheepish grin. "We must carry you a bit farther to save our skins"; and a light began to dawn on their officer. Farther along the trench, which spades and feverish hands were strengthening, two men stood, and the Senior Captain knew that the moment he dreaded had come. Brigadier-General Dashwood, very set and stern, his heart struggling between pride at the fine fight his battalion had put up and sorrow at the heavy losses they had sustained, cleared his throat as he put a question to the other man. With the Brigadier it was duty first and private interest afterwards, but now that everything had been done he spoke. "By the way, Littlewood, I don't see either of my boys," he said; and a spasm crossed the face of the Senior Captain as he looked out over the parapet. "Where are Bob and Dennis, Littlewood?" repeated the Brigadier. "Here we are, sir!" said a laughing voice out of the darkness. "We're both a bit bent, but we're safe and sound for all that"; and Captain Littlewood echoed the Brigadier's hearty "Thank God!" as Hawke and Tiddler dumped their burden down before them. Hands met, and the lieutenant, who had taken over the command of the survivors of A Company, and who had come up at the moment, felt the muscles of his throat tighten, and became very duty-struck to cover his emotions. "Is that you, Hawke?" he said sharply. "Do you mean to say you disobeyed my orders and left the trench?" "Captain Dashwood--sir!" said Harry Hawke, with a ring of ill-used innocence in his husky voice, "didn't we pick you up at the other end of this trench when you tumbled over the sandbags? And didn't you say you was all right, sir, but we would carry you?"