“Good evening, sir,” he said to Blaikie.  “Will you follow me, please?  I have marked out each man’s digging position with white tape, so they ought to find no difficulty in getting to work.  Brought your machine-gun officer?”

The machine-gun officer, Ayling, was called up.

“We are digging a sort of square fort,” explained the Engineer, “to hold a battalion.  That will mean four guns to mount.  I don’t know much about machine-guns myself; so perhaps you”—­to Ayling—­“will walk round with me outside the position, and you can select your own emplacements.”

“I shall be charmed,” replied Ayling, and Blaikie chuckled.

“I’ll just get your infantry to work first,” continued the phlegmatic youth.  “This way, sir!”

The road at this point ran through a hollow square of trees, and it was explained to the working-party that the trees, roughly, followed the outlines of the redoubt.

“The trenches are about half-finished,” added the Engineer.  “We had a party from the Seaforths working here last night.  Your men have only to carry on where they left off.  It’s chiefly a matter of filling sandbags and placing them on the parapet.”  He pointed to a blurred heap in a corner of the wood.  “There are fifty thousand there.  Leave what you don’t want!”

“Where do we get the earth to fill the sandbags?” asked Blaikie.  “The trenches, or the middle of the redoubt?”

“Oh, pretty well anywhere,” replied the Engineer.  “Only, warn your men to be careful not to dig too deep!”

And with this dark saying he lounged off to take Ayling for his promised walk.

“I’ll take you along the road a bit, first,” he said, “and then we will turn off into the field where the corner of the redoubt is, and you can look at things from the outside.”

Ayling thanked him, and stepped somewhat higher than usual, as a bullet struck the ground at his feet.

“Extraordinary how few casualties one gets,” continued the Sapper chattily.  “Their snipers go potting away all night, but they don’t often get anybody.  By the way, they have a machine-gun trained on this road, but they only loose it off every second night.  Methodical beggars!”

“Did they loose it off last night?”

“No.  To-night’s the night.  Have you finished here!”

“Yes, thanks!”

“Right-o!  We’ll go to the next corner.  You’ll get a first-class field of fire there, I should say.”

The second position was duly inspected, the only incident of interest being the bursting of a star-shell directly overhead.

“Better lie down for a minute,” suggested the Engineer.

Ayling, who had been struggling with a strong inclination to do so for some time, promptly complied.

“Just like the Crystal Palace on a benefit night!” observed his guide admiringly, as the landscape was lit up with a white glare.  “Now you can see your position beautifully.  You can fire obliquely in this direction, and then do a first-class enfilade if the trenches get rushed.”