the forest of sword 6

the forest of sword 6

"I understand that you came with the flying man, Lannes, who brought the

message responsible for this march, and that it is not the only time

you've done good service in our cause?"

 

John bowed modestly.

 

"Did you see any German troops on the way?"

 

"Only a band of Uhlans."

 

"A mere scouting party. It occurred to me that you might have seen

masses of troops belonging to the foe, indicating perhaps what is

awaiting us at the end of our march."

 

"I know nothing, sir. The Uhlans were all the foes we saw from the air,

save the man who shot Lannes."

 

"I believe you. You belong to the youngest of the great nations. Your

people have not yet learned to say with the accents of truth the thing

that is not. I am sixty years old, and yet I have the curiosity to know

where I am going and what I am expected to do when I get there. Behold

how I, an old man, speak so frankly to you, so young."

 

"When I saw your excellency leap into the saddle you did not seem to me

to be more than twenty."

 

John called him "your excellency" because he thought that in the absence

of precise knowledge of what was fitting the term was as good as

another.

 

A smile twinkled in the eyes of General Vaugirard. Evidently he was

pleased.

 

"That is flattery, flattery, young man," he said, "but it pleases me.

Since I've drawn from you all you know, which is but little, you may

fall back with your comrades. But keep near; I fancy I shall have much

for you to do before long. Meanwhile, we march on, in ignorance of what

is awaiting us. Ah, well, such is life!"

 

He seemed to John a strange compound of age and youth, a mixture of the

philosopher and the soldier. That he was a real leader John could no

longer doubt. He saw the little red eyes watching everything, and he

noticed that the regiments of Vaugirard had no superiors in trimness and

spirit.

 

They marched until sundown and stopped in some woods clear of

undergrowth, like most of those in Europe. The camp kitchens went to

work at once, and they received good food and coffee. As far as John

could see men were at rest, but he could not tell whether the whole army

was doing likewise. It spread out much further to both right and left

than his eyes could reach.

 

The members of the staff tethered their horses in the grove, and after

supper stood together and talked, while the fat general paced back and

forth, his brow wrinkled in deep thought.

 

"Good old Papa Vaugirard is studying how to make the best of us," said

de Rougemont. "We're all his children. They say that he knows nearly ten

thousand men under his command by face if not by name, and we trust him

as no other brigade commander in the army is trusted by his troops. He's

thinking hard now, and General Vaugirard does not think for nothing. As

soon as he arrives at what seems to him a solution of his problem he

will begin to whistle. Then he will interrupt his whistling by saying:

'Ah, well, such is life.'"

 

"I hope he'll begin to whistle soon," said John, "because his brow is

wrinkling terribly."

 

He watched the huge general with a sort of fascinated gaze. Seen now in

the twilight, Vaugirard's very bulk was impressive. He was immense,

strong, primeval. He walked back and forth over a line about thirty feet

long, and the deep wrinkles remained on his brow. Every member of his

staff was asking how long it would last.

 

A sound, mellow and soft, but penetrating, suddenly arose. General

Vaugirard was whistling, and John's heart gave a jump of joy. He did not

in the least doubt de Rougemont's assertion that an answer to the

problem had been found.

 

General Vaugirard whistled to himself softly and happily. Then he said

twice, and in very clear tones: "Ah, well, such is life!" He began to

whistle again, stopped in a moment or two and called to de Rougemont,

with whom he talked a while.

 

"We're to march once more in a half-hour," said de Rougemont, when he

returned to John and his comrades. "It must be a great converging

movement in which time is worth everything. At least, General Vaugirard

thinks so, and he has a plan to get us into the very front of the

action."

 

"I hope so," said John. "I'm not anxious to get killed, but I'd rather

be in the battle than wait. I wonder if I'll meet anywhere on the front

that company to which I belong, the Strangers."

 

"I think I've heard of them," said de Rougemont, "a body of Americans

and Englishmen, volunteers in the French service, commanded by Captain

Daniel Colton."

 

"Right you are, and I've two particular friends in that company--I

suppose they've rejoined it--Wharton, an American, and Carstairs, an

Englishman. We went through a lot of dangers together before we reached

the British army near Mons, and I'd like to see them again."

 

"Maybe you will, but here comes an extraordinary procession."

 

They heard many puffing sounds, uniting in one grand puffing chorus, and

saw advancing down a white road toward them a long, ghostly train, as if

a vast troop of extinct monsters had returned to earth and were marching

this way. But John knew very well that it was a train of automobiles and

raising the glasses that he now always carried he saw that they were

empty except for the chauffeurs.

 

General Vaugirard began to whistle his mellowest and most musical tune,

stopping only at times to mutter a few words under his breath. John

surmised that he was expressing deep satisfaction, and that he had been

waiting for the motor train. War was now fought under new conditions.

The Germans had thousands and scores of thousands of motors, and perhaps

the French were provided almost as well.

 

"I fancy," said de Rougemont, who was also watching the arrival of the

machines, "that we'll leave our horses now and travel by motor."

 

De Rougemont's supposition was correct. The line of automobiles began to

mass in front, many rows deep, and all the chauffeurs, their great

goggles shining through the darkness, were bent over their wheels ready

to be off at once with their armed freight. It filled John with elation,

and he saw the same spirit shining in the eyes of the young French

officers.

 

General Vaugirard began to puff like one of the machines. He threw out

his great chest, pursed up his mouth and emitted his breath in little

gusts between his lips, "Very good! Very good, my children!" he said,

"Oil and electricity will carry us now, and we go forward, not

backward!"

 

True to de Rougemont's prediction, the horses were given to orderlies,

and the staff and a great portion of the troops were taken into the

cars. General Vaugirard and several of the older officers occupied a

huge machine, and just behind him came de Rougemont, John and a

half-dozen young lieutenants and captains in another. Before them

stretched a great white road. Far overhead hovered many aeroplanes. John

had no doubt that the _Arrow_ was among them, or rather was the farthest

one forward. Lannes' eager soul, wound or no wound, would keep him in

front.

 

They now moved rapidly, and John's spirits continued to rise. There was

something wonderful in this swift march on wheels in the moonlight. As

far back as he could see the machines came in a stream, and to the left

and right he saw them proceeding on other roads also. All the country

was strange to John. He could not remember having seen it from the

aeroplane, and he was sure that the army, instead of going to Paris, was

bound for some point where it would come in instant contact with the

German forces.

 

"Do you know the road?" he asked of de Rougemont.

 

"Not at all. I'm from the Gironde country. I've been in Paris, but I

know little of the region about it. A good way to reach the front, is it

not, Mr. Scott?"

 

"Fine. I fancy that we're hurried forward to make a link in a chain, or

at least to stop a gap."

 

"And those large birds overhead are scouting for us."

 

"Look! One of them is dropping down. I dare say it's making a report to

some general higher in rank than ours."

 

He pointed with a long forefinger, and John watched the aeroplane come

down in its slanting course like a falling star. It was a beautiful

night, a light blue sky, with a fine moon and hosts of clear stars. One

could see far, and soon after the plane descended John saw it rise again

from the same spot, ascend high in air, and shoot off toward the east.

 

"That may have been Lannes," he said.

 

"Likely as not," said de Rougemont.

 

John now observed General Vaugirard, who sat erect in the front of his

automobile, with a pair of glasses, relatively as huge as himself, to

his eyes. Occasionally he would purse his lips, and John knew that his

favorite __EXPRESSION__ was coming forth. To the young American's

imaginative mind his broad back expressed rigidity and strength.

 

The great murmuring sound, the blended advance of so many men, made John

sleepy by-and-by. In spite of himself his heavy eyelids drooped, and

although he strove manfully against it, sleep took him. When he awoke he

heard the same deep murmur, like the roll of the sea, and saw the army

still advancing. It was yet night, though fine and clear, and there

before him was the broad, powerful back of the general. Vaugirard was

still using the glasses and John judged that he had not slept at all.

But in his own machine everybody was asleep except the man at the wheel.

 

The country had grown somewhat hillier, but its characteristics were the

same, fertile, cultivated fields, a small wood here and there, clear

brooks, and church spires shining in the dusk. Both horse and foot

advanced across the fields, but the roads were occupied by the motors,

which Joh