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Page 16
Lannes smiled.
"I see that you're in fine feather this morning," he said, "I'll open it
for you."
John jumped up and dressed quickly, while Lannes, with accustomed hand,
laid back shutters and curtains.
"Now, shove up the window," exclaimed John as he wielded towel and
brush. "A little fresh air in a house won't hurt you; it won't hurt
anybody. We're a young people, we Americans, but we can teach you that.
Why, in the German hotels they'd seal up the smoking-rooms and lounges
in the evenings, and then boys would go around shooting clouds of
perfume against the ceilings. Ugh! I can taste now that awful mixture of
smoke, perfume and thrice-breathed air! Ah! that feels better! It's like
a breath from heaven!"
"Ready now? We're going down to breakfast with my mother and sister."
"Yes. How do I look in this uniform, Lannes?"
"Very well. But, Oh, you Americans! we French are charged with vanity,
but you have it."
John had thought little of his raiment until he came to the house of
Lannes, but now there was a difference. He gave the last touch to his
coat, and he and Philip went down together. Madame Lannes and Julie
received them. They were dressed very simply, Julie in white and Madame
Lannes in plain gray. Their good-morning to John was quiet, but he saw
that it came from the heart. They recognized in him the faithful comrade
in danger, of the son and brother, and he saw once more that French
family affection was very powerful.
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.
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