John did not see him this time, but the look of pitiless resolve in the eyes of the young Frenchman deepened. That the Germans should come upon the soil of France and drive the French before them overwhelmed him with an agony that left no room for mercy.
"There goes another of the Taubes," he whispered, as a shadow flitted to the right "They're cruising about in lively fashion. If anybody hails us don't answer. I'll turn away in the darkness, pretending that we haven't heard."
The hail came almost as he spoke, but the Arrow veered to one side again at an angle, and then, after a few minutes, came back to a point, where it hovered directly over the Zeppelin and not far away. John saw beneath them now the huge shape, ploughing along slowly through the heavy bank of air. It loomed, in the darkness, a form, monstrous and incredible.
"Are we just over the thing, John?" asked Lannes.
"Exactly. Look down and you can see."
"I see."
Then his arm flashed out, and he hurled something downward with all the concentrated force of hate. There came a stunning crash mingled with rending and tearing sounds and frightened cries, and then the monstrous shape was gone. The place where it had hung in the heavens was empty and silent.
John's heart missed a dozen beats. His jaw fell and he stared at Lannes.
"Yes, I intended it from the first," said Lannes, "and I haven't a single compunction. I got that bomb, and three others in the Swiss village when I left you at the inn. I did not tell you of them because—well, because, I thought it better to keep the secret to myself. It's war. The men in that Zeppelin came to destroy our towns and to kill our men."
"I'm not accusing you. I suppose, as you say, it's war. But hadn't we better get away from here as fast as we can?"