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sh aviator could not understand the words the gestures were clear to him, and he waved a hand in friendly fashion. Then, wheeling in a fine circle, he came back by their side as an escort. The _Arrow_, like a bird, folding its wings, sank gracefully into the meadow, and Lannes, hastily jumping out, asked John to look after the aeroplane. Then he rushed toward a group of officers, among whom he recognized the chief of the army. 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
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