long years in the Service that would ha'
been stumped at times. I'm glad to have had a hand in it wi' you, sir.
And all the men feel the same way about it.'

Ah well, the Subaltern thought as he halted at the joint of the
T-piece, none of them felt the same about it as he himself did. He
squatted there a moment, listening to the drip of water that was the
only sound. Suddenly his heart leapt . . . was it the only sound?
What was that other, if it could be called a sound? It was a sense
rather, an indefinable blending of senses of hearing and feel and
touch--a faint, barely perceptible 'thump, thump,' like the beat of a
man's heart in his breast. He snapped off the light of his electric
lamp and crouched breathless in the darkness, straining his ears to
hear. He was soon satisfied. He had not lived these days past with
the sound of digging in his ears by day and his dreams by night not to
recognise the blows of a pick. There . . . they had stopped now; and
in imagination he pictured the digger laying down the pick to shovel
out the loosened earth. Then, after a pause, the measured thump, thump
went on again. The Subaltern crawled along first one arm of the
cross-section and then the other, halting every now and then to place
his ear to the wet planking or the wetter earth. He located at last
the point nearest to the sound, and without more waste of time scurried
off down his tunnel to daylight.

He was back in the mine again in less than half an hour--a bare thirty
minutes, but each minute close packed with concentrated essence of
thought and action.

The nearest trench telephone had put him in touch with Battalion
Headquarters, and through them with Brigade, Divisional, and General
Headquarters. He had told his story and asked for his orders clearly,
quickly, and concisely. The Germans were countermining. Their tunnel
could not possibly miss ours, and, by the sound, would break through in
thirty to sixty minutes. What were his orders? It took some little
time for the orders to come, mainly because--although he knew nothing
of it--his mine was part of a scheme for a general attack, and general
attacks are affairs that cannot be postponed or expedited as easily as
a cold lunch. But the Subaltern filled in the time of waiting, and
when the orders did come he was ready for them or any other. They were
clear and crisp--he was to fire the mine, but only at the latest
possible minute. That was all he got