Page:Ruth of the U.S.A. (IA ruthofusa00balm).pdf/163

 The firing was heavy—no heavier, perhaps, than Ruth often had heard at night during the days near Mirevaux, but tonight it seemed to Ruth to have a more intense, more nervous quality.

"Box barrage, sounds like," Haddon-Staples volunteered when Ruth stopped to study the direction of the action. "Not much on, I should say. Trench raid for information, probably."

"When do you suppose they'll attack?"

They, of course, were the Germans. "Oh, any time. That's what we're out for a bit of a line on tonight—naturally. Sooner they try it, the better, don't you think?"

"You're—we're all ready for them?" Ruth asked.

"Ready as may be," the Englishman returned politely. "They've rather the advantage of us, you know—numerically. A good bit of a farm here again, isn't there?" he shifted the subject, gazing over the level, planted fields.

Ruth talked with him about other things; but her thought remained with those English guns firing and firing, with the English gunners serving them, with the English infantry raiding "for information" or lying in wait for the certain-coming attack of an enemy having a recognized advantage—numerically. The reason that the enemy possessed that advantage was, she knew, that America was not yet in force on the battle line. But for that tardiness, she had not yet heard one word of censure from Englishmen or from the French.

The guns were still going when she went to bed at half-past ten—the English guns with the German guns attempting only ordinary reply. So Ruth slept until a