By now
they could hear, too, shouts and cries and the trampling rush of many
footsteps. The signaler spoke into his instrument again.
"I think the line's fallen back," he said. "I can hear a heap o' men
running about there outside, and now I suppose us here is about due to
get it in the neck."
There was a scuffle, a rush, and a plunge, and the sergeant shot down
through the rear opening and out into the cellar.
"The flank trenches!" he shouted. "Quick! Get on to them--right and
left flank--tell them they're to stand fast. Quick, now, give them that
first. Stand fast; do not retire."
The signalers leaped to their instruments, buzzed off the call, and
getting through, rattled their messages off.
"Ask them," said the sergeant anxiously. "Had they commenced to
retire." He breathed a sigh of relief when the answers came. "No," that
the message had just stopped them in time.
"Then," he said, "you can go ahead now and tell them the order to
retire is cancelled, that the reenforcements have arrived, that they're
up in our forward line, and we can hold it good--oh!"
He paused and wiped his wet forehead; "you," he said, turning to the
other signaler, "tell them behind there the same thing."
"How in thunder did they manage it, sergeant?" said the perplexed
signaler.
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