" The
third man was Travers. He lay on his back, his face turned slightly
toward the wall, his eyes closed. He seemed asleep. The Colonel nodded
somberly. "Another ten hours," he calculated.
He came back to the table, where the others waited, and drew out a
paper from his pocket.
"Give me your light a moment, Nicholson," he said.
No one spoke while he examined the list before him. All around them
was a curious hush--a new thing in their struggle, and one that seemed
surcharged with calamity. After a moment Colonel Carmichael looked up.
He was many years the senior of his companions, but just then there
seemed no difference in years between them. They were three wan,
haggard men, weakened with hunger, exhausted with sleepless watching.
That week had killed the youth in two of them.
"Geoffries has just given me this," Carmichael said. "It is a list of
our provisions. We have enough food, but there is no fresh water. The
enemy has cut off the supply. We could not expect them to do
otherwise." He waited, and then, as neither spoke, he went on: "I have
spoken with the others. You know, gentlemen, we can not go on another
twenty-four hours without water. We have made a good fight for it, but
this is the end. We must look the fact in the face."
"Surely they must know at headquarters what a state we are in--"
Saunders began.
The Colonel shrugged his shoulders.
"No doubt they know, but they can not help in time.
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