ed--the gun where Stumm was. The
shell dropped ten yards to our right. A second later another fell
behind us.

Blenkiron had dragged himself to the parapet. I don't suppose he had
ever been shelled before, but his face showed curiosity rather than
fear.

'Pretty poor shooting, I reckon,' he said.

'On the contrary,' I said, 'they know their business. They're
bracketing ...'

The words were not out of my mouth when one fell right among us. It
struck the far rim of the _castrol_, shattering the rock, but bursting
mainly outside. We all ducked, and barring some small scratches no one
was a penny the worse. I remember that much of the debris fell on
Hilda von Einem's grave.

I pulled Blenkiron over the far parapet, and called on the rest to
follow, meaning to take cover on the rough side of the hill. But as we
showed ourselves shots rang out from our front, shots fired from a
range of a few hundred yards. It was easy to see what had happened.
Riflemen had been sent to hold us in rear. They would not assault so
long as we remained in the _castrol_, but they would block any attempt
to find safety outside it. Stumm and his gun had us at their mercy.

We crouched below the parapet again. 'We may as well toss for it,' I
said. 'There's only two ways--to stay here and be shelled or try to
break through those fellows behind. Either's pretty unhealthy.'

But I knew there was no choice. With Blenkiron crippled we were pinned
to the _castrol_. Our numbers were up all right.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Guns of the North

But no more shells fell.

The night grew dark and showed a field of glittering stars, for the air
was sharpening again towards frost. We waited for an hour, crouching
just behind the far parapets, but never came that ominous familiar
whistle.

Then Sandy rose and stretched himself. 'I'm hungry,' he said. 'Let's
have out the food, Hussin. We've eaten nothing since before daybreak.
I wonder what is the meaning of this respite?'

I fancied I knew.

'It's Stumm's way,' I said. 'He wants to torture us. He'll keep us
hours on tenterhooks, while he sits over yonder exulting in what he
thinks we're enduring. He has just enough imagination for that ... He
would rush us if he had the men. As it is, he's going to blow us to
pieces, but do it slowly and smack his lips over it.'

Sandy yawned. 'We'll disappoint him, for we won't be worried, old man.
We three are beyond that kind of fear