er contracted
on the trigger, but a sudden qualm stayed him. It wasn't fair, it
wasn't sporting, it was too like shooting a sitting hare. And the man
hadn't seen him even yet. Man? This was no man; a lad rather, a
youth, a mere boy, with childish wondering eyes, a smooth oval chin,
the mouth of a pretty girl. The Subaltern had a school-boy brother
hardly younger than this boy; and a quick vision rose of a German
mother and sisters--no, he couldn't shoot; it would be murder; it--and
then a quick start, an upward movement of the lamp, a sharp question,
told him the boy had seen. The Subaltern spoke softly in fairly good
German. 'Run away, my boy. In an instant my mine will explode.'

'Who is it? Who is there?' gasped the boy.

The Subaltern chuckled, and grinned wickedly. Swiftly he dropped the
revolver, fumbled a moment, and pulled a coil of capped fuse from his
pocket.

'It is the English,' he said. 'It is an English mine that I now
explode,' and, on the word, lit the fuse and flung it, fizzing and
spitting a jet of sparks and smoke, towards the boy. The lad flinched
back and half turned to run, but the Subaltern saw him look round over
his shoulder and twist back, saw the eyes glaring at the fiery thing in
the mud, the dreadful resolve grow swiftly on the set young face, the
teeth clamped on the resolve. He was going to dash for the fuse, to
try to wrench it out and, as he supposed, prevent the mine exploding.
The Subaltern jerked up the revolver again. This would never do; the
precious seconds were flying; at any moment another man might come. He
would have saved this youngster if he could, but he could allow nothing
to risk failure for his mine. 'Get back,' he said sharply. 'Get back
quickly, or I shall shoot.'

But now what he had feared happened. A voice called, a scuffling
footfall sounded in the German gallery, a dim figure pushed forward
into the light beside the boy. The Subaltern saw that it was an
officer, heard his angry oath in answer to the boy's quick words, his
shout, 'The light, fool--break it'; saw the clenched fist's vicious
buffet in the boyish face and the quick grab at the electric bulb. The
Subaltern's revolver sights slid off the boy and hung an instant on the
snarling face of the officer. . . .

In the confined space the roar of his heavy revolver rolled and
thundered in reverberating echoes, the swirling powder-reek blinded him
and stung in his nostrils; and as the smo