captain?"

"No, he's gone on his mission, whatever it is."

"A fine night for travel," said Wharton sardonically. "A raw wind,
driving snow, pitchy darkness, slush and everything objectionable
underfoot. Yet I'd like to be in Weber's place. A curse upon the man who
invented life in the trenches! Of all the dirty, foul, squalid monotony
it is this!"

"You'll have to curse war first," said John. "War made the trench."

"Here comes a man with an electric torch," said Carstairs. "Something is
going to happen in our happy lives."

They saw the faint glimmer of the torch held low, and an orderly arrived
with a message from Captain Colton, commanding them to wake everybody
and to stand to their arms. Then the orderly passed quickly on with
similar orders for others.

"Old Never Sleep," said Carstairs, referring to Colton, "thinks we get
too much rest. Why couldn't he let us tuck ourselves away in our mud on
a night like this?"

"I fancy it's not restlessness," said John. "The order doubtless comes
from a further and higher source. Good old Papa Vaugirard is not more
than a quarter of a mile away."

"I hear they had to enlarge the trench for him," grumbled Carstairs.
"He's always bound to keep us stirring."