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Page 79
John himself disembarked stiffly, and stretched his limbs, while several
young Englishmen looked at him curiously. He had learned long since how
to deal with Englishmen, that is to take no notice of them until they
made their presence known, and then to acquiesce slowly and reluctantly
in their existence. So, he took short steps back and forth on the grass,
flexing and tensing his muscles, as abstractedly as if he were alone on
a desert island.
"I say," said a handsome fair young man at last, "would you mind telling
us, old chap, where you come from?"
John continued to stretch his muscles and took several long and deep
breaths. After the delay he turned to the fair young man and said:
"Beg pardon, but did you speak to me?"
The Englishman flushed a little and pulled at his yellow mustache. An
older man said:
"Don't press His Highness, Lord James. Don't you see that he's an
American and therefore privileged?"
"I'm privileged," said John, "because I was with you fellows from
Belgium to Paris, and since then I've been away saving you from the
Germans."
Lord James laughed. He had a fine face and all embarrassment disappeared
from it.
"We want to be friends," he said. "Shake hands."
John shook. He also shook the hand of the older man and several others.
Then he explained who he was, and told who had come with him, none less
than the famous young French aviator, Philip Lannes.
"Lannes," said Mr. Yellow Mustache, who, John soon learned, was Lord
James Ivor. "Why, we've all heard of him. He's come to the chief with
messages a half-dozen times since this battle began, and I judge from
the way he rushed to him just now that he has another, that can't be
delayed."
"I think so, too," said John, "although I don't know anything about it
myself. He's a close-mouthed fellow. But do any of you happen to have
heard of an Englishman, Carstairs, and an American, Wharton, who belong
to a company called the Strangers in the French army, but who must be at
present with you--that is, if they're alive?"
John's voice dropped a little, as he added the last words, but Lord
James Ivor walked to the brow of a low hill, called to somebody beyond,
and then walked back.
"It's a happy chance that I can tell you what you want to know," he
said. "Those two men have been serving in my own company, and they're
both alive and well. But they were lying on the grass there, dead to the
world, that is, sleeping, as if they were two of the original seven
sleepers."
Two figures appeared on the brow of the hill, gazed at first in a
puzzled manner at John and then, uttering shouts of welcome, rushed
toward him. Carstairs seized him by one hand and Wharton by the other.
"Not killed, I see," said Carstairs.
"Nor is he going to be killed," said Wharton.
"Now, where have you been?" asked Carstairs.
"Yes, where have you been?" asked Wharton.
"I've been taking a couple of pleasure trips with my friend, Lannes,"
replied John. "Between trips I was a prisoner of the Germans, and I've
seen a lot of the great battle. Has the British army suffered much?"
A shade flitted over the face of Carstairs as he replied:
"We haven't been shot up so much since Waterloo. It's been appalling.
For days and nights we've been fighting and marching. Whenever we
stopped even for a moment we fell on the ground and were asleep before
we touched it. Half the fellows I knew have been killed. I think as long
as I live I'll hear the drumming of those guns in my ears, and, confound
'em, I still hear 'em in reality now. If you turn your attention to it
you can hear the confounded business quite plainly! But what I do know,
Scott, is that we've been winning! I don't know where I am and I haven't
a clear idea of what I've been doing all the time, but as sure as we're
in France the victory is ours."
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