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Updated: May 9, 2025
Creeping out of the far end of the trench, as dusk fell, he crawled through the grass on hands and knees, in spite of shells and snipers, dropping flat on the ground as the flares shot up from the German trenches. And, at last, thirty yards away in the open ... he knew that he was close on what he sought. Two yards farther, he found it.
There were plenty of flares being thrown up from the German lines and a more or less erratic rifle fire was crackling up and down the trenches on both sides, the Tearaways taking care to keep their bullets clear of the working party, to fire no more than enough to allay any German suspicions of a job being in hand, and not to provoke any extra hostility.
The concealing darkness, broken only by the flares of explosions, enveloped the enemy. Our camp searchlight was still struggling with it. But overhead, where the few little platforms were circling and swooping, the flares gave an almost continuous glare. It was dazzling, blinding. Even through the smoked pane which I adjusted to my visor I could not stand it.
Firing could be heard from their direction and, as a matter of fact, they had enough to do to hold up an enemy attack on their left from Askalon. At 17.15 the enemy on our own front opened a very heavy fire from rifles and machine-guns, and, as we drew nearer, he began to put up flares in large numbers.
"Had we have signalled too freely the Huns would have soon become suspicious, for, mark you, the flares that we had popped off at 'em the night before had left 'em with an uncomfortable feeling that their spy was taking quite unreasonable risks. It is of course most unusual for a spy to make use of rocket signals. Do I make myself comprehensible?" "Perfectly. Did the Huns attack?" I asked.
Now, if you read the accounts of all these apparitions, you'll find they all proceed like this: First the sky darkens, the thunder growls, the wind howls, doors and windows rattle, the lamp if there is a lamp in the room of the person the ghosts are trying to frighten the lamp flares, flickers and goes out utter darkness!
Several figures were moving about. As the boys looked on, these seized oil flares and started moving toward them. "Here's where our turn comes at last," said Frank. Jack laid a hand on his arm. "Better than that, Frank," he said. "How many do you make out?" "Three is my guess." "The two men in the airplane and the man in charge of the cave," said Jack.
At intervals, apparently at each street intersection, an oil flare sputtered dimly from brackets set in the walls a trifle higher than a man's head. For the most part the winding alleys were in dense shadow and even in the immediate vicinity of the flares the illumination was far from brilliant.
Afar off a gilded vane flares out above the grey Jacobean gables of Knoll, the chime of a village clock falls faintly on the ear, but there is no voice or footfall of living thing to break the silence as I turn over leaf after leaf of the little book I have brought with me from the bustle of town to this still retreat, a book that is the record of a broken life, of a life "broken off," as he who lived it says of another, "with a ragged edge."
Is there another skein to hold, Decima?" Decima replied in the negative. She rose, put the paper of silk upon the table, and then turned to Jan. "Mamma and I had quite a contention yesterday," she said to him. "I say that Lionel is not being treated properly." "That's just my opinion," laconically replied Jan. "Only West flares up so, if his treatment is called in question.
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