The Forest of Swords 4

The Forest of Swords 4

It was early, far earlier than the ordinary time for the European

breakfast, and he knew that it had been served so, because he and Lannes

were to depart. He sat facing a window, and he saw the dawn come over

Paris in a vast silver haze that soon turned to a cloud of gold. He

again stole glances at Julie Lannes. In all her beautiful fairness of

hair and complexion she was like one of the blonde American girls of his

own country.

 

When breakfast was over and the two young men rose to go John said the

first farewell. He still did not know the French custom, but, bending

over suddenly, he kissed the still smooth and handsome hand of Madame

Lannes. As she flushed and looked pleased, he judged that he had made no

mistake. Then he touched lightly the hand of the young girl, and said:

 

"Mademoiselle Julie, I hope to return soon to this house with your

brother."

 

"May it be so," she said, in a voice that trembled, "and may you come

back to a Paris still French!"

 

John bowed to them both and with tact and delicacy withdrew from the

room. He felt that there should be no witness of Philip's farewell to

his mother and sister, before going on a journey from which the chances

were that he would never return.

 

He strolled down the hall, pretending to look at an old picture or two,

and in a few minutes Lannes came out and joined him. John saw tears in

his eyes, but his face was set and stern. Neither spoke until they

reached the front door, which the giant, Picard, opened for them.

 

"If the worst should happen, Antoine," said Lannes, "and you must be the

judge of it when it comes, take them to Lyons, to our cousins the

Menards."

 

"I answer with my life," said the man, shutting together his great

teeth, and John felt that it was well for the two women to have such a

guardian. Under impulse, he said:

 

"I should like to shake the hand of a man who is worth two of most men."

 

Whether the French often shake hands or not, his fingers were enclosed

in the mighty grasp of Picard, and he knew that he had a friend for

life. When they went out Lannes would not look back and was silent for a

long time. The day was warm and beautiful, and the stream of fugitives,

the sad procession, was still flowing from the city. Troops too were

moving, and it seemed to John that they passed in heavier masses than on

the day before.

 

"I went out last night while you slept," said Lannes, when they were

nearly at the hangar, "and I will tell you that I bear a message to one

of our most important generals. I carry it in writing, and also in

memory in case I lose the written word. That is all I feel at liberty to

tell you, and in truth I know but little more. The message comes from

our leader to the commander of the army at Paris, who in turn orders me

to deliver it to the general whom we're going to seek. It directs him

with his whole force to move forward to a certain point and hold fast

there. Beyond that I know nothing. Its whole significance is hidden from

me. I feel that I can tell you this, John, as we're about to start upon

a journey which has a far better prospect of death than of life."

 

"I'm not afraid," said John, and he told the truth. "I feel, Philip,

that great events are impending and that your dispatch or the effect of

it will be a part in some gigantic plan."

 

"I feel that way, too. What an awful crisis! The Germans moved nearer in

the dark. I didn't sleep a minute last night. I couldn't. If the signs

that you and I saw are to be fulfilled they must be fulfilled soon,

because when a thing is done it's done, and when Paris falls it falls."

 

"Well, here we are at the hangar, and the _Arrow_ will make you feel

better. You're like the born horseman whose spirits return when he's on

the back of his best runner."

 

"I suppose I am. The air is now my proper medium, and anyway, John, my

gallant Yankee, for a man like me the best tonic is always action,

action, and once more action."

 

The _Arrow_ was in beautiful condition, smooth, polished and fitted with

everything that was needed. They put on their flying clothes, drew down

their visors, stowed their automatics in handy pockets, and took their

seats in the aeroplane. Then, as he put his hand on the steering rudder

and the attendants gave the _Arrow_ a mighty shove, the soul of Lannes

swelled within him.

 

They rose slowly and then swiftly over Paris, and his troubles were left

behind him on the earth. Up, up they went, in a series of graceful

spirals, and although John, at first, felt the old uneasy feeling, it

soon departed. He too exulted in their mounting flight and the rush of

cold air.

 

"Use your glasses, John," said Lannes, "and tell me what you can see."

 

"Some captive balloons, five other planes, all our own, and on the

horizon, where the German army lies, several black specks too vague and

indefinite for me to make out what they are, although I've no doubt

they're German flyers."

 

"I'd like to have a look at the Germans, but our way leads elsewhere.

What else do you see, John?"

 

"I look downward and I see the most magnificent and glittering city in

the world."

 

"And that's Paris, our glorious Paris, which you and I and a million

others are going to save. I suppose it's hope, John, that makes me feel

we'll do something. Did you know that the Germans dropped two more bombs

on the city last night? One, luckily, fell in the Seine. The other

struck near the Madeleine, close to a group of soldiers, killing two and

wounding four more."

 

"Bombs from the air can't do any great damage to a city."

 

"No, but they can spread alarm, and it's an insult, too. We feel as the

Germans would if we were dropping bombs on Berlin. I wish you'd keep

those glasses to your eyes all the time, John, and watch the skies. Let

me know at once, if you see anything suspicious."

 

John, continually turning in his seat, swept the whole curve of the

world with the powerful glasses. Paris was now far below, a blur of

white and gray. Above, the heavens were of the silkiest blue, beautiful

in their infinite depths, with tiny clouds floating here and there like

whitecaps on an ocean.

 

"What do you see now, John?"

 

"Nothing but one of the most beautiful days that ever was. It's a fine

sun, that you've got over here, Philip. I can see through these glasses

that it's made out of pure reddish gold."

 

"Never mind about that sun, John. America is a full partner in its

ownership and you're used to it. I've heard that you have more sunshine

than we do. Watch for our companions of the air, friend or foe."

 

"I see them flying; over Paris, but none is going in our direction. How

far is our port of entry, Lannes?"

 

"We should be there in two hours, if nothing happens. Do we still have

the course to ourselves or is anything coming our way now?"

 

"No company at all, unless you'd call a machine about three miles off

and much lower down, a comrade."

 

"What does it look like?"

 

"A French aeroplane, much resembling the _Arrow_."

 

"Is it following us?"

 

"Not exactly. Yes, it is coming our way now, although it keeps much

lower! A scout, I dare say."

 

Lannes was silent for a little while, his eyes fixed on his pathway

through the blue. Then he said:

 

"What has become of that machine, John?"

 

"It has risen a little, but it's on our private course, that is, if we

can claim the right of way all down to the ground."

 

Lannes glanced backward and downward, as well as his position would

allow.

 

"A French plane, yes," he said thoughtfully. "There can be no doubt of

it, but why should it follow us in this manner? You do think it's

following us, don't you, John?"

 

"It begins to look like it, Phil. It's rising a little now, and is

directly in our wake."

 

"Take a long look through those glasses of yours."

 

John obeyed, and the following aeroplane at once increased in size

tenfold and came much nearer.

 

"It's French. There cannot be any doubt of it," he said, "and only one

man is in it. As he's hidden by his flying-suit I can't tell anything

about him."

 

"Watch him closely, John, and keep your hand on the butt of your

automatic. I don't like that fellow's actions. Still, he may be a

Frenchman on an errand like ours. We've no right to think we're the only

people carrying important messages today."

 

"He's gaining pretty fast. Although he keeps below us, it looks as if he

wanted to communicate with us."

 

The second aeroplane suddenly shot forward and upward at a much greater

rate of speed. John, still watching through his glasses, saw the man

release the steering rudder for an instant, snatch a rifle from the

floor of his plane, and fire directly at Lannes.

 

John uttered a shout of anger, and in action, too, he was as quick as a

flash. His automatic was out at once and he rained bullets upon the

treacherous machine. It was hard to take aim, firing from one flying

target, at another, but he saw the man flinch, turn suddenly, and then

go rocketing away at a sharp angle.

 

Blazing with wrath John watched him, now far out of range, and then

reloaded his automatic.

 

"Did you get him, John?" asked Lannes.

 

"I know one bullet found him, because I saw him shiver and shrink, but

it couldn't have been mortal, as he was able to fly away."

 

"I'm glad that you at least hit him, because he hit me."

 

"What!" exclaimed John. Then he looked at his comrade and saw to his

intense horror that black blood was flowing slowly down a face deadly

pale.

 

"His bullet went through my cap and then through my head," said Lannes.

"Oh, not through my skull, or I wouldn't be talking to you now. I think

it glanced off the bone, as I know it's gone out on the other side. But

I'm losing much blood, John, and I seem to be growing numb."

 

His voice trailed off in weakness and the _Arrow_ began to move in an

eccentric manner. John saw that Lannes' hand on the rudder was uncertain

and that he had been hard hit. He was aghast, first for his friend, to

whom he had become so strongly attached, and then for the _Arrow_, their

mission and himself. Lannes would soon become unconscious and he, no

flying man at all, would be left high in air with a terrible weight of

responsibility.

 

"We must change seats," said Lannes, struggling against the dimness that

was coming over his eyes and the weakness permeating his whole body. "Be

careful, Oh, be careful as you can, and then, in your American language,

a lot more. Slowly! Slowly! Yes, I can move alone. Drag yourself over

me, and I can slide under you. Careful! Careful!"

 

The _Arrow_ fluttered like a wounded bird, dropping, darting upward, and

careering to one side. John was sick to his soul, both physically and

mentally. His head became giddy and the wind roared in his ears, but the

exchange of seats was at last, successfully accomplished.

 

"Now," said Lannes, "you're a close observer. Remember all that you've

seen me do with the plane. Resolve to yourself that you do know how to

fly the _Arrow_. Fear nothing and fly straight for our destination.

Don't bother about the bleeding of my wound. My thick hair and thick cap

acting together as a heavy bandage will stop it. Now, John, our fate

rests with you."

 

The last words were almost inaudible, and John from the corner of his

eye saw his comrade's head droop. He knew that Lannes had become

unconscious and now, appalling though the situation was, he rose to the

crisis.

 

He knew the immensity of their danger. A sudden movement of the rudder

and the aeroplane might be wrecked. And in such a position the nerves of

a novice were subject at any time to a jerk. They might be assailed by

another treacherous machine, the dangers, in truth, were uncountable,

but he was upborne by a tremendous desire to carry the word and to save

Lannes and himself.

 

In the face of intense resolve all obstacles became as nothing and his

hand steadied on the rudder. He knew that when it came to the air he was

no Lannes and never could be. The solid earth, no matter how much it

rolled around the sun or around itself, was his favorite field of

action, but he felt that he must make one flight, when he carried with

him perhaps the fate of a nation.

 

The _Arrow_ was still rocking from side to side and dipping and jumping.

Slowly he steadied it, handling the rudder as if it were a loaded

weapon, and gradually his heart began to pound with triumph. It was no

such flying as the hand of Lannes drew from the _Arrow_, but to John it

seemed splendid for a first trial. He let the machine drop a little

until it was only six or seven hundred yards above the earth, and took

wary glances from side to side. He feared another pursuer, but the air

seemed clear.

 

Lannes had sunk a little further forward. John saw that the

bleeding from his head had ceased. There was a dark stain down either

cheek, but it was drying there, and as Lannes had foreseen, his hair and

the cap had acted as a bandage, at last checking the flow effectively.

His breathing was heavy and jerky, but John believed that he would

revive before long. It was not possible that one so vital as Lannes, so

eager for great action, could die thus.

 

Now he looked ahead. Their landmarks as Lannes had told him before the

fight, were to be a high hill, a low hill, and a small stream flowing

between. Just behind it they would find a great French army marching

northward and their errand would be over. He did not yet see the hills,

but he was sure that he was still in the pathway of the air.

 

He had left Paris far behind, but when he looked down he saw a beautiful

country, a fertile land upon which man had worked for two thousand

years, too beautiful to be trodden to pieces by armies. He saw the

cultivated fields, varying in color like a checker board, and the neat

villages with trees about them. Here and there the spire of a church

rose high above everything. Churches and wars were so numerous in

Europe!

 

John checked the speed of the _Arrow_. He was afraid, despite all his

high resolve, to fly fast, and then he must not go beyond the army for

which he was looking. He dropped a little lower as he was passing over a

wood, and then he heard the crack of rifles beneath him. Bullets whizzed

and sang past his ears and he took one fearful glance downward.

 

He saw men, spiked helmets on their heads, galloping among the trees,

and he knew that they were a daring band of Uhlans, actually scouting

inside the French lines. They were shooting at the _Arrow_ and firing

fast.

 

He attempted to rise so suddenly that the plane gave a violent jerk and

quivered in every fiber. He thought for a moment they were going to

fall, and the sickening sensation at his heart was overpowering. But the

trusty _Arrow_ ceased quivering, and then rose swiftly at an angle not

too great.

 

Bullets still whizzed around the plane, and one glanced off its polished

side, but John's first nervous jerkiness in handling the machine had

probably saved him. The target had been so high in air, and of such a

shifting nature that the Uhlans had little chance to hit it.

 

He was now beyond the range of any rifle, and he drew a long breath of

relief that was like a deep sigh. Then he took a single downward glance,

and caught a fleeting glimpse of the Uhlans galloping away. Doubtless

they were making all speed back to their own army.

 

He flew on for a minute or two, searching the horizon eagerly, and at

last, he saw a tall hill, a low hill and a flash of water between. He

felt so much joy that he uttered a cry, and an echo of it came from a

point almost by his side.

 

"Did I hear firing, John?"

 

It was Lannes' voice, feeble, but showing all the signs of returning

strength, and again John uttered a joyous shout.

 

"You did," he replied. "It was Uhlans in a grove. I was flying low and

their bullets whistled around us. But the _Arrow_ has taken no harm. I

see, too, the hills and the stream which are our landmarks. We're about

to arrive, Philip, with our message, but there's been treachery

somewhere. I wish I knew who was in that French plane."

 

"So do I, John. It certainly came out of Paris. In my opinion it meant

to destroy us and keep our message from reaching the one for whom it was

intended. Who could it have been and how could he have known!"

 

"Feeling better now, aren't you, Phil?"

 

"A lot better. My head aches tremendously, but the dimness has gone from

before my eyes, and I'm able to think, in a poor and feeble way,

perhaps, but I'm not exactly a dumb animal. Where are the hills?"

 

John pointed.

 

"I can see them," said Lannes exultantly. "Since they did no harm I'm

glad the Uhlans fired at the _Arrow_. Their shots aroused me from stupor

and as we're to reach the army I want to be in possession of my five

senses when I get there."

 

John understood perfectly.

 

"It's your message and you deliver it," he said.

 

Lannes' strength continued to increase, and his mind cleared rapidly.

His head ached frightfully, but he could think with all his usual

swiftness and precision. He sat erect in his seat.

 

"Pass me your glasses, John," he said.

 

"Now I see the troops," he said, after a long look. "Frenchmen,

Frenchmen, Frenchmen, infantry in thousands and scores of thousands, big

guns in scores and hundreds, cuirassiers, hussars, cannoneers! Ah! It's

a sight to kindle a dead heart back to life! John, this is one of the

great wheels in the mighty machine that is to move forward! Here come

two aeroplanes, scouts sent forward to see who and what we are."

 

"You are sure they contain genuine Frenchmen? Remember the fellow who

shot you."

 

"Frenchmen, good and true. I can see them for myself."

 

He moved his hand, and in a few moments John heard hissing and purring

near, as if great birds were flying to meet him. The outlines of the

hovering planes showed by his side, and Lannes called in a loud voice to

shrouded and visored men.

 

"Philip Lannes and his comrade, John Scott, with a message from Paris

to the commander!" he exclaimed.

 

He was his old self again, erect, intense, dramatic. He evidently

expected the name Philip Lannes to be known well to them, and it was, as

a cheer followed high in air.

 

"Now, John," said Lannes, "Be careful! Your hardest task is before you,

to land. But I've noticed that with you the harder the task the better

you do it. Make for that wide green space to the left of the stream and

come down as slowly and gently as you can. Just slide down."

 

John had a fleeting glimpse of thousands of faces looking upward, but he

held a true course for the grassy area, and with a multitude looking on

his nerve was never steadier. Amid great cheering the _Arrow_ came

safely to rest at her appointed place. John and Lannes stepped forth, as

an elderly man in a quiet uniform came forward to meet them.

 

Lannes, holding himself stiffly erect, drew a paper from his pocket and

extended it to the general.

 

"A letter, sir, from the commander-in-chief of all our armies," he said,

saluting proudly.

 

As the general took the letter, Lannes' knees bent beneath him, and he sank down on his face.