The aeroplane seemed fairly to shoot out of space. First its outlines became visible, and then the man at the rudder. He came straight toward the tree, dropped low and circled about it, while John rushed from the vines and cried as loud as he could:
"Lannes! Lannes, it's me! John Scott! I've been waiting for you!"
The Arrow dropped further, barely touched the earth, and Lannes, leaning over, shouted to John in tones, tense and sharp with command:
"Give the plane a shove with all your might, and jump in. For God's sake don't linger, man! Jump!"
The impulse communicated by Lannes was so powerful that before he knew what he was doing John pushed the Arrow violently and sprang into the extra seat, just as it was leaving the earth.
Lannes gave the rudder a strong twist and the aeroplane shot up like a mounting bird. John got back his breath and presence of mind.
"Wait, Philip! Wait!" he cried. "We're leaving behind our friend Weber! He's down there, somewhere by the river!"
Lannes made no reply. The Arrow continued its rise, sharp and swift, and John heard a crackling sound below. Little missiles, steel and deadly, shot by them. One passed so close to his face that his breath went again. When he recovered it once more the Arrow, its inmates, unharmed, was far above the range of rifles, flying in a circle.
"Look down, John," said Lannes.