llage, for every now and then we tried off to right and left,
to find cottages on the latter side, what seemed to be cultivated fields
on the other.

Then, all at once, the houses ceased, and the tracks grew deeper with
the wheel-ruts half filled with water, and it was evident that the
horses had struggled hard to drag the guns through soft ploughed fields.

"Brace," I said, after we had tramped on through the heavy ground for
about a quarter of a mile.

"Yes."

"I hope I'm wrong, but I'm very much afraid--"

"That settles it, Gil, lad," he said quickly. "You are thinking as I
have been for the last quarter of an hour, are you not? That we are too
late?"

"Yes. They have deserted the place."

"Undoubtedly. I ought to have grasped the notion at once. We could not
have got into this village unchallenged. We have not been drilling
before these men so many years for them to occupy a place like this
without sentries."

"Can we have failed?" I said despondently.

"Oh no; say we have not succeeded yet," he cried cheerily, as he clapped
me on the shoulder. "You and I are going to recapture those guns, Gil,
my lad. We must; we must."

"But what are you going to do now?" I asked.

"Practise patience, lad. We have spent many hours over this vain
struggle, and it is madness to go wandering about in the darkness, so
let's get back to the village and pick out the best house we can, and
rest till daylight. It is the only course open to us. There, we need
not whisper now."

"I wish I was stronger," I said rather despondently.

"Bah! you are tired. So am I. Cheer up, lad. You'll feel like a new
man when you've lain down for an hour. Nothing like it. Flat down on
your back. It is the most refreshing thing there is."

As he was speaking, we were following the track back toward the village,
and as there was no need now to practise caution, the distance did not
seem great before we were abreast of the houses again, and after passing
his hands over the entrances of one or two, Brace entered the third
cautiously, stood within; there was a rustling noise, a sharp crackling,
and the match he had struck blazed up and spread what appeared to me
quite a brilliant glare around.

"No," he said sharply, "we are not dogs, to rest in such a kennel as
this. There must be a decent house somewhere."

But for a long time it seemed as if there was not, and I was ready to
say, "Anything will do," when we cautiously en