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Page 4
But John, despite his own strong heart, could not keep from feeling an
infinite sadness and pity, not for Lannes, but for all the three million
people who inhabited the City of Light, most of whom were fleeing now
before the advance of the victorious invader. He could put himself in
their place. France held his deepest sympathy. He felt that a great
nation, sedulously minding its own business, trampled upon and robbed
once before, was now about to be trampled upon and robbed again. He
could not subscribe to the doctrine, that might was right.
He watched the fugitives a long time. They were crowding the railway
stations, and they were departing by motor, by cart and on foot. Many of
the poorer people, both men and women, carried packs on their backs. The
boulevards and the streets were filled with the retreating masses.
It was an amazing and stupefying sight, the abandonment by its
inhabitants of a great city, a city in many ways the first in the world,
and it gave John a mighty shock. He had been there with his uncle and
Mr. Anson in the spring, and he had seen nothing but peace and
brightness. The sun had glittered then, as it glittered now over the Arc
de Triomphe, the gleaming dome of the Invalides and the golden waters of
the Seine. It was Paris, soft, beautiful and bright, the Paris that
wished no harm to anybody.
But the people were going. He could see them going everywhere. The
cruel, ancient times when cities were destroyed or enslaved by the
conqueror had come back, and the great Paris that the world had known so
long might become lost forever.
The stream of fugitives, rich and poor, mingled, poured on without
ceasing. He did not know where they were going. Most of them did not
know themselves. He saw a great motor, filled high with people and
goods, break down in the streets, and he watched them while they worked
desperately to restore the mechanism. And yet there was no panic. The
sound of voices was not high. The Republic was justifying itself once
more. Silent and somberly defiant, the inhabitants were leaving Paris
before the giant German guns could rain shells upon the unarmed.
It was three or four hours until the time to meet Lannes, and drawn by
an overwhelming curiosity and anxiety he began the climb of the Butte
Montmartre. If observers on the Eiffel Tower could see the German forces
approaching, then with the powerful glasses he carried over his shoulder
he might discern them from the dome of the Basilica of the Sacred
Heart.
As he made his way up the ascent through the crooked and narrow little
streets he saw many eyes, mostly black and quick, watching him. This by
night was old Paris, dark and dangerous, where the Apache dwelled, and
by day in a fleeing city, with none to restrain, he might be no less
ruthless.
But John felt only friendliness for them all. He believed that common
danger would knit all Frenchmen together, and he nodded and smiled at
the watchers. More than one pretty Parisian, not of the upper classes,
smiled back at the American with the frank and open face.
Before he reached the Basilica a little rat of a young man stepped
before him and asked:
"Which way, Monsieur?"
He was three or four years older than John, wearing uncommonly tight
fitting clothes of blue, a red cap with a tassel, and he was about five
feet four inches tall. But small as he was he seemed to be made of
steel, and he stood, poised on his little feet, ready to spring like a
leopard when he chose.
The blue eyes of the tall American looked steadily into the black eyes
of the short Frenchman, and the black eyes looked back as steadily. John
was fast learning to read the hearts and minds of men through their
eyes, and what he saw in the dark depths pleased him. Here were cunning
and yet courage; impudence and yet truth; caprice and yet honor. Apache
or not, he decided to like him.
"I'm going up into the lantern of the Basilica," he said, "to see if I
can see the Germans, who are my enemies as well as yours."
"And will not Monsieur take me, too, and let me have look for look with
him through those glasses at the Germans, some of whom I'm going to
shoot?"
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