|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 29
He was not sleepy now, and he watched the vast panorama wheel past. He
knew without looking at his watch that the night was nearly over,
because he could already smell the dawn. The wind was freshening a bit,
and he heard its rustle in the leaves of a wood as they pushed through
it.
Then came a hum and a whir, and a long line of men on motor cycles at
the edge of the road crept up and then passed them. One checked his
speed enough to run by the side of John's car, and the rider, raising
his head a little, gazed intently at the young American. His cap closed
over his face like a hood, but the man knew him.
"Fortune puts us on the same road again, Mr. Scott," he said.
"I don't believe I know you," said John, although there was a familiar
note in the voice.
"And yet you've met me several times, and under exciting conditions. It
seems to me that we're always pursuing similar things, or we wouldn't be
together on the same road so often. You're acute enough. Don't you know
me now?"
"I think I do. You're Fernand Weber, the Alsatian."
"And so I am. I knew your memory would not fail you. It's a great
movement that we've begun, Mr. Scott. France will be saved or destroyed
within the next few days."
"I think so."
"You've deserted your friend, Philip Lannes, the finest of our airmen."
"Oh, no, I haven't. He's deserted me. I couldn't afford to be a burden
on his aeroplane at such a time as this."
"I suppose not. I saw an aeroplane come down to earth a little while
ago, and then rise again. I'm sure it was his machine, the _Arrow_."
"So am I."
"Here's where he naturally would be. Good-bye, Mr. Scott, and good luck
to you. I must go on with my company."
"Good-bye and good luck," repeated John, as the Alsatian shot forward.
He liked Weber, who had a most pleasing manner, and he was glad to have
seen him once more.
"Who was that?" asked de Rougemont, waking from his sleep and catching
the last words of farewell.
"An Alsatian, named Fernand Weber, who has risked his life more than
once for France. He belongs to the motor-cycle corps that's just
passing."
"May he and his comrades soon find the enemy, because here is the day."
The leaves and grass rippled before the breeze and over the eastern
hills the dawn broke.
CHAPTER IV
THE INVISIBLE HAND
It was a brilliant morning sun, deepening the green of the pleasant
land, lighting up villages and glinting off church steeples. In a field
a little distance to their right John saw two peasants at work already,
bent over, their eyes upon the ground, apparently as indifferent to the
troops as the troops were to them.
It was very early, but the sun was rising fast, unfolding a splendid
panorama. The French army with its blues and reds was more spectacular
than the German, and hence afforded a more conspicuous target. John was
sure that if the war went on the French would discard these vivid
uniforms and betake themselves to gray or khaki. He saw clearly that the
day of gorgeous raiment for the soldier had passed.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|