hovering over their own lines. They don't approach."

"Doubtless they don't, because they're beginning to watch the air over
the Marne as a danger zone. That pretty little signal of yours may have
scared them."

Lannes laughed. It was evident that he was in a most excellent humor.

"All right, have your fun," said John, showing his own teeth in a smile.
"If our flag didn't frighten away the German army it at least achieved
what we wanted, that is, it brought you. The whole episode would be
perfect if it were not for the fact that we lost sight of Weber."

"I tell you again not to worry about him. That man has shown uncommon
ability to take care of himself."

"All right. I'll let him go for the present. Hello, here we are crossing
the Marne again, and without getting our feet wet."

"We're a good half mile above it, but we'll cross it once more soon. I'm
following the shortest road to the British army and that takes us over a
loop of the river."

"Yes, here we are recrossing, and now we're coming to a region of
chequered fields, green and brown and yellow. I always like these varied
colors of the French country. It's a beautiful land down there, Philip."

"So it is, but see if it isn't defaced by sixty or seventy thousand
sunburnt men in khaki, the khaki often stained with blood. The men, too,
should be tired to death, but you can't tell that from this height."

"The British army you mean? Yes, by all that's glorious, I see them, or
at least a part of them! I see thousands of men lying down in the
fields as if they were dead."

"They're not dead, though. They just drop in their tracks and sleep in
any position."

"I saw the Germans doing that, too. I suppose we'll land soon, Philip,
won't we? They've sighted us and a plane is coming forward to meet us."

"We'll make for the meadow over there just beyond the little stream. I
think I can discern the general's marquee, and I must deliver my message
as soon as possible. Wave to that fellow that we're friends."

An English aeroplane was now very near them and John, leaning over, made
gestures of amity. Although the aviator's head was almost completely
enshrouded in a hood, he discerned a typically British face.

"Kings of the air, with dispatches for your general!" John cried. He
knew that the man would not hear him, but he was so exultant that he
wanted to say something, to shout to him, or in the slang of his own
land, to let off steam.

But while the Engli