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[Page 94]

5
in the tottering ruins half left from where we stand.

Crash!

It is only the fall of brickwork. It comes to the mind of each of us that the explosion seems dangerously close to the secret lair of our twelve pounder.

We hold our peace in the shattered darkness.

If the shell has had the luck to find where the grand old gun is placed, nuzzling grimly beneath a flimsy covering of splintered timbers and sacking dragged from the wreckage and rubbish heaps of ruin to disguise, - well, it is but the fortune of war.

The gold and vermilion of that exploding flash still flickers on our eyeballs and we once more mentally survey the position

No! It must have fallen a bit further to the left, and beyond, the twelve pounder.
She will bark as usual in the morning, and hurl her mighty missels once more towards the

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