Their boots stretched to the verge of the bank, which was slippery and uncertain.
We had to walk on this with our stretchers, stepping between the boots, stumbling often and slipping down towards the water.
"Any wounded ?" we whispered again and again.
"No," the whisper came back.

"Hasten....

Take care of the moonlight." And then, to my infinite relief and comfort, behind the cottages we found our wounded man.

There was a dark yard here, apparently quite deserted.

The Feldscher made an exclamation and stepped forward.