s."

We did, where she lay at one side. We three men dropped like dogs in a
row in front of the fire. I was next Paulette, with the space of a foot
or so between us. I had not known how dead weary I was till I stretched
out flat. Collins and Dunn may have slept; I don't know; but Paulette
certainly did, as soon as she got her head down. I thought I lay and
watched the fire, but I must have slept, too. For I woke--with my heart
drumming as if I'd heard the trump for the Last Judgment, and Paulette's
hand in mine. I must have flung out my arm till I touched her, and her
little fingers were tight round my hard, dirty hand, clinging to it. I
lay in heaven, in the dark of a frowsy cave we might be hunted out of
any minute, with the dying glow of the fire in my eyes and my dream
girl's hand in mine. And suddenly, like a blow, I heard her whisper in
her sleep, "Dudley! Oh, dear Dudley!"

I was only Nicky Stretton, and a fool. I lay in the dark with a heart
like a stone and a girl's warm, clinging hand in mine.

CHAPTER XVII

HIGH EXPLOSIVE

There was nothing to tell of any handclasp when I woke in the morning.
Paulette lay in her blankets with her back to me, as if she had lain so
all night; Dunn was making up the fire; Collins was absent, till he
appeared out of his tunnel where he had put Dudley's high explosive the
night before and nodded to me. None of us spoke: we all had that chilly
sort of stiffness you get after sleeping with your clothes on. As we ate
our breakfast I took one glance at Paulette and looked away again. She
was absolutely white, almost stunned looking, and her eyes would not
meet mine. I had an intuition she had waked in the night after I slept
and discovered what she had been doing; but if she were ashamed there
was no need. God knows I would not have reminded her of the thing. I
knew the dark hollows and the tear marks under her eyes were for Dudley,
not for me. But I had to take care of her now, and Collins glanced at me
as I thought it.

"I suppose you realize Charliet's our only line of communication, and
that he and all the La Chance guns are in the hands of the enemy," he
observed drily. "What do you think of doing about it?"

"Get Charliet; all the guns and ammunition he can steal; hold this place
and harry Macartney," I supposed. "What do _you_ think?"

I had turned to Paulette, but she only shook her head with an, "I don't
know, Mr. Stretton!" I had time to decide she had only