ere yet too novel to allow
of any other feeling.

"They're coming to us!" said John.

"Yes," said Lannes, pride showing in his tone. "I called them and they
came. I told you, John, that we'd escape, neither by land, nor by water,
but that we would escape. And so we will. We go by air, John. The
heavens open and receive us."

He rose and stretched out his arms, as if to meet the coming black
shapes. The dramatic instinct in him was strong, and John could well
pardon it as he saw that his emotion was extraordinary.

"The heavens open a path for us!" he cried.

The two aeroplanes were now circling over their own hill, and John could
discern human shapes in them. They began to descend gently, as the
operators skillfully handled the steering rudders.

"Well done! well done!" said Lannes to himself rather than to John.
"They couldn't be managed better."

Presently the machines began to loop and make spirals, and then both
sank gently upon the grassy turf in the center of the glade. A man
stepped forth from the seat in each machine and saluted Lannes, as if he
were a commander. Lannes returned the salute promptly and gracefully.

"We saw the fiery signal, lieutenant," said one of the men in French, as
he took off his great glasses, "and we came as fast as we could."

"I knew that you would do so, Castelneau," said Lannes, "and I knew that
Mery would be as prompt."

The two aviators bowed with evident gratification, and Castelneau said:

"We are proud of praise that comes from the most daring and skillful
airman in France, which means in this case the world. We thank you,
Lieutenant Lannes."

Lannes blushed and said: "You overrate me, Castelneau."

John glanced at him. And, so this youth with the easy manner and the
wonderful eyes was the greatest of all flying men! John's own mind was
not mechanical, but his glance became a gaze of admiration. What a
mighty achievement it was to cleave the air like a bird, and leave the
whole solid earth beneath. One, in fact, did leave the world and hang in
space. For the moment, he thought more of the wonder than of its bearing
upon his own fortunes.

He glanced down at the machines resting on the grass. Their motors were
still throbbing, and in the dimness they looked like the rocs of Arabian
mythology, resting after a gigantic flight. In truth, everything had
taken on for John an aspect of unreality. These men were unreal, Lannes
and he were unreal, and it was an unreal wo