"There goes the bravest man I ever saw," said John. "Give him air to
float in, and I believe he'd try for the sun."

"All those flying men are brave," said a young officer, "but Lannes is
the bravest of them all, as he is also the most skillful. As a scout he
is worth ten thousand men to us."

"I must look for those English of whom he spoke," said John, "I have
trespassed upon your courtesy here long enough. I wish to join them and
serve with you."

"They're not all English by any means. Fully half of them are your own
countrymen, Americans. The English and Americans quarrel much among
themselves, but they unite against any foe. My own name is Creville,
Louis Creville, and I'll take you to this company, The Strangers, as
with pride they call themselves."

Creville led the way, and John followed toward another wing of the
French force. The young American observed the French soldiers closely.
They did not look either so stalwart or so trim as the Germans. Their
long blue coats, and baggy red trousers had a curious effect. The color
scheme seemed to John more fitted to a circus than to an army, but they
were lively, active men, their faces gay and their eyes full of
intelligence. He knew from his history that they had looked just the
same way and had acted just the same way when they followed the
victorious banners of Napoleon into nearly every capital of Europe.

"We're almost at the camp of the Strangers," said Captain Creville.
"None could ever mistake it, because their debate this morning upon
their respective merits is uncommonly spirited. Listen!"

"I tell you, Wharton, you Yankees have no discipline. By Gad, sir, your
lack of it is startling."

"We don't need it, Carstairs, because we were always able to lick you
English without it."

"Lick us, you boasters! Where did you ever lick us?"

"Wherever we were able to find you."

"My histories tell me that you never looked for us much."

"But those histories were written by Englishmen. I'll lay you a good
five-dollar bill against one of your shilling-short pounds that I beat
you into Berlin."

"As a prisoner, yes. I've no doubt of it."

"Gentlemen," said Creville, as he took a step forward, and looked into a
little dip, "I bring you a new comrade."

Within the dip lay at least two hundred youths and young men. Nearly all
were fair, and they were unmistakably Americans and English. The two who
had been carrying on the violent controversy were stretched fl