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.