"They appear to be quite new, too," remarked the Staff Captain
thoughtfully. "Come to breakfast!"

On their way back they found the Brigadier, the Machine-Gun Officer,
and the Padre, gazing silently upward.

"I wonder when that corner of the house got knocked off," the M.G.O.
was observing.

"Fairly recently, I should say," replied the Brigadier.

"Those marks beside your bedroom window, sir,--they look pretty
fresh!" interpolated the Padre, a sincere but somewhat tactless
Christian.

Brigade Headquarters regarded one another with dubious smiles.

"I _wonder_," began a tentative voice, "if those fellows last night
were indulging in a leg-pull--what is called in this country a
_lire-jambe_--when they assured us--"

WHOO-OO-OO-OO-UMP!

A shell came shrieking over the tree-tops, and fell with a tremendous
splash into the geometrical centre of the lake, fifty yards away.

* * * * *

For the next two hours, shrapnel, "whizz-bangs," "Silent Susies,"