e we stood, gaping, never realizing an instant that we
were running the slightest risk. The machine passed directly over our
heads, not low enough, however, for us to distinguish its contents with
the naked eye.

"There's another!" shouted someone. And turning our backs on the enemy,
we gave our entire attention to a second speck that had suddenly risen
on the horizon.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon and the armored head of the
ever-on-coming aeroplane glittered splendidly in the golden rays of the
afternoon sun.

"_Cest un francais!_" cried George.

"_Non!_"

Allowing that an aeroplane flies at the rate of a mile a minute, one can
easily imagine that we had not long to wait before number two sped over
us. Through my glass I was able to recognize the tri-color cockade
painted underneath the plane, and when I announced this there went up a
wild shriek of joy.

At that moment a loud report in the west announced that the Germans had
begun their deadly work on undefended territory.

"That's a bomb for the railway crossing at Nanteuil, I'll bet!" said
Leon, and while I was realizing that that projectile might just as well
have been for us, the others were gesticulating and bowling
encouragement to their compatriot some few hundred yards above them, as
though he could bear every word they said:

"Go it, old man!"

"Bring down that cursed blackbird!" "_Vive la France!_" and other
similar ejaculations were drowned by the noise of the motor.

The chase was on! It was more exciting than any horserace I ever
witnessed. The Frenchman was rapidly gaining on the other, but would
they come into combat before they vanished from our horizon? That was
the question that filled us with anguish.

On, on they sped, growing smaller and smaller every second. Presently
it became impossible to distinguish them apart, but we knew that they
had come within range of each other, for the two specks rose and fell by
turns now soaring high, now dipping precipitately, seeming almost to
touch at times. Then, just as they were about to disappear, one of them
suddenly collapsed and fell. Which one, we never knew.

Towards dusk the _garde-champtre_ appeared and left orders that George
and Leon must take their turns at mounting guard. Four hours right out
of the sleep of a peasant boy especially when he is overworked, is
likely to leave him useless the next day. It provoked me a little, but
then it was duty and they must obey