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Page 46
Lannes looked down, and, pronouncing the place suitable, began to drop
in a series of spirals until they rested in a small field that had been
devoted to the growth of vegetables. Here John at once felt the shaking
of the earth, and tasted the bitter odor again. But woods on either side
of them hid the sight of troops, although the sound of the battle was as
great and violent as ever.
"We seem to have landed on a desert island," said Lannes.
"So we do," said John. "Evidently there is nobody here to tell us where
we can find our dear and long lost general. I'll go down to the edge of
the nearest wood and see if any of our skirmishers are there."
"All right, John, but hurry back. I'll hold the _Arrow_ ready for
instant flight, as we can't afford to linger here."
John ran toward the wood, but before he reached the first trees he
turned back with a shout of alarm. He had caught a glimpse of horses,
helmets and the glittering heads of lances. Moreover, the Uhlans were
coming directly toward him.
In that moment of danger the young American showed the best that was in
him. Forgetful of self and remembering the importance of Lannes'
mission, he shouted:
"The Uhlans are upon us, Philip! I can't escape, but you must! Go! Go
at once!"
Lannes gave one startled glance, and he understood in a flash. He too
knew the vital nature of his errand, but his instant decision gave a
wrench to his whole being. He saw the Uhlans breaking through the woods
and John before them. He was standing beside the _Arrow_, and giving the
machine a sharp push he sprang in and rose at a sharp angle.
"Up! Up, Philip!" John continued to cry, until the cold edge of a lance
lay against his throat and a brusque voice bade him to surrender.
"All right, I yield," said John, "but kindly take your lance away. It's
so sharp and cold it makes me feel uncomfortable."
As he spoke he continued to look upward. The _Arrow_ was soaring higher
and higher, and the Uhlans were firing at it, but they were not able to
hit such a fleeting target. In another minute it was out of range.
John felt the cold steel come away from his throat, and satisfied that
Lannes with his precious message was safe, he looked at his captors.
They were about thirty in number, Prussian Uhlans.
"Well," said John to the one who seemed to be their leader, "what do you
want with me?"
"To hold you prisoner," replied the man, in excellent English--John was
always surprised at the number of people on the continent who spoke
English--"and to ask you why we find an American here in French
uniform."
The man who spoke was young, blond, ruddy, and his tone was rather
humorous. John had been too much in Germany to hate Germans. He liked
most of them personally, but for many of their ideas, ideas which he
considered deadly to the world, he had an intense dislike.
"You find me here because I didn't have time to get away," he replied,
"and I'm in a French uniform because it's my fighting suit."
The young officer smiled. John rather liked him, and he saw, too, that
he was no older than himself.
"It's lucky for you that you're in some kind of a uniform," the German
said, "or I should have you shot immediately. But I'm sorry we didn't
take the man in the aeroplane instead of you."
John looked up again. The _Arrow_ had become small in the distant blue.
A whimsical impulse seized him.
"You've a right to be sorry," he said. "That was the greatest flying man
in the world, and all day he has carried messages, heavy with the fate
of nations. If you had taken him a few moments ago you might have saved
the German army from defeat today. But your chance has gone. If you were
to see him again you would not know him and his plane from others of
their kind."
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