"So it does. I wish I knew what was happening."
"There comes one of those men in the air. He is going to drop down by us. Maybe you can learn something from him."
John felt a sudden wild hope that it was Lannes, but his luck did not hold good enough for it. The plane was of another shape than the Arrow, and, when it descended to the ground, a man older than Lannes stepped out upon the grass. He glanced around as if he were looking for some general of division for whom he had an order, and John, unable to restrain himself, rushed to him and exclaimed:
"News! News! For Heaven's sake, give us news! Surely you've seen from above!"
The man smiled and John knew that a bearer of bad news would not smile.
"I'm the friend and comrade of Philip Lannes," continued John, feeling that all the flying men of France knew the name of Lannes, and that it would be a password to this man's good graces.
"I know him well," said the air scout. "Who of our craft does not? My own name is Caumartin, and I have flown with Lannes more than once in the great meets at Rheims. In answer to your question I'm able to tell you that on the wings the soldiers of France are advancing. A wedge has been thrust between the German armies and the one nearest Paris is retreating, lest it be cut off."
Bougainville heard the words, and he ran among the men, telling them. A fierce shout arose and John himself quivered with feeling. It was better, far better than he had hoped. He realized now that his courage before had been the courage of despair. Lannes and he, as a last resort, had put faith in signs and omens, because there was nothing else to bear them up.
"Is it true? Is it true beyond doubt! You've really seen it with your own eyes?" he exclaimed.
Caumartin smiled again. His were deep eyes, and the smile that came from them was reassuring.