"In my heart. Every beat tells me that this Paris of ours is not for the Germans. We will yet turn them back!"
He reminded John of Lannes in his dramatic intensity, real and not affected, a true part of his nature. Its effect, too, upon the American was powerful. He had given courage to Lannes, and now Bougainville, that little Apache of the Butte Montmartre, was giving new strength to his own weakening heart. Fresh life flowed back into his veins and he remembered that he, too, had beheld a sign, the flash of light on the Arc de Triomphe.
"I think we have seen enough here, Geronimo," he said lightly, "and we'll descend. I've a friend to meet later. Which way do you go from the church?"
"To the army. I shall be in a uniform tonight, and tomorrow maybe I shall meet the Germans."
John held out his hand and the Apache seized it in a firm clasp.
"I believe in you, as I hope you believe in me," said young Scott. "I belong to a company called the Strangers, made up chiefly of Americans and English, and commanded by Captain Daniel Colton. If you're on the battle line and hear of the Strangers there too I should like for you to hunt me up if you can. I'd do the same for you, but I don't yet know to what force you will belong."
Bougainville promised and they walked down to the second platform, where Father Pelletier was still standing.
"What did you see?" he asked of John, unable to hide the eagerness in his eyes.
"Uhlans, Father Pelletier, and I fancied that I heard the echo of a German forty-two centimeter. Would you care to use the glasses? The view from this floor is almost as good as it is from the lantern."
John distinctly saw the priest shudder.