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Page 86
"I am, and I'm mighty happy over it. I'll admit that I was rather glad
to see you, you blooming Britisher."
About one-third of the Strangers were gone forever, and the rest, except
the higher officers, were prostrate in the glade. White, worn and
motionless they lay in the same stupor that John had seen overtake the
German troops. Some were flat upon their backs, with arms outstretched,
looking like crosses, others lay on their faces, and others were curled
up on their sides. Few were over twenty-five. Nearly all had mothers in
America or Great Britain.
While they slept the guns yet grumbled at many points. The sound on the
horizon had gone on so long now that it seemed normal to John. He knew
that it would continue so throughout the night, and maybe for many more
days and nights. Unless it came near and made him a direct personal
menace he would pay no attention to it.
It was growing late. Night was spreading once more over the vast battle
field, stretching over thirty leagues maybe. The common soldier knew
nothing, majors and colonels knew little more, but the silent man whose
invisible hand had swept the gigantic German army back from Paris knew
much. While the fire of the artillery continued under the searchlights
the exhausted infantry sank down. Then the telephones began to talk over
a vast stretch of space, dazzling white lights made signals, the
sputtering wireless sent messages in the air, and the flying machines
shot through the heavens. Commanders talked to one another in many ways
now, and they would talk all through the night.
John and his comrades ate supper, while most of the Strangers slept
around them. Those who were awake recognized them, shook hands and said
a few words. They were a taciturn lot. After supper Carstairs and
Wharton dropped upon the grass and were soon sound asleep. Scott was
inclined to be wakeful and he walked along the edge of the glade,
looking anxiously at the sleeping forms.
He saw the loom of a fire just beyond the ridge and going to the crest
to look at it he beheld outlined before it a gigantic figure that he
recognized at once. It was General Vaugirard, and John would have been
glad to speak to him, but he hesitated to approach a general. While he
stood doubting a hand fell upon his shoulder and a glad voice said in
his ear:
"And our young American has come back! Ah, my friend, let me shake your
hand!"
It was Captain de Rougemont, trim, erect and without a wound. John
gladly let him shake. Then in reply to de Rougemont's eager questions he
told briefly of all that had happened since they parted.
"The general has asked twice if we had any news of you," said de
Rougemont. "He does not forget. A great mind in a vast body."
"Could I speak to him?"
"Of a certainty, my friend; come."
They advanced toward the fire. General Vaugirard was walking up and
down, his hands clasped behind his back, and whistling softly. His huge
figure looked yet more huge outlined against the flames. He heard the
tread of the two young men and looking up recognized John instantly.
"Risen from the dead!" he exclaimed with warmth, clasping the young
man's hand in his own gigantic palm. "I had despaired of ever seeing you
again! There are so many more gallant lads whom I will certainly never
see! Ah, well, such is life! The roll of our brave young dead is long,
very long!"
He reclasped his hands behind his back and walking up and down began to
whistle again softly. His emotion over the holocaust had passed, and
once more he was the general planning for victory. But he stopped
presently and said to John:
"The Strangers, to whom you belong, have come under my command. You are
one of my children now. I have my eye on all of you. You are brave lads.
Go and seek rest with them while you can. You may not have another
chance in a month. We have driven the German, but he will turn, and then
we may fight weeks, months, no one knows how long. Ah, well, such is
life!"
John saluted respectfully, and withdrew to the little open glade in
which the Strangers were lying, sleeping a great sleep. Captain Colton
himself, wrapped in a blanket, was now a-slumber under a tree, and
Wharton and Carstairs near by, stretched on their sides, were deep in
slumber too. Fires were burning on the long line, but they were not
numerous, and in the distance they seemed mere pin points. At times bars
of intense white light, like flashes of lightning, would sweep along the
front, showing that the searchlights of either army still provided
illumination for the fighting. The note of the artillery came like a
distant and smothered groan, but it did not cease, and it would not
cease, since the searchlights would show it a way all through the night.
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