"We're doing it now. While we were talking I was steering the Arrow westward. Hark, do you hear those shots!"
"I hear them. It can't be that they're firing at random in the air, as they would be more likely to hit one another than a slim and single little shape like the Arrow."
"They're signaling. Of course they're organized, and they're probably trying to draw all the planes to one spot, after which they'll spread out and seek us. But they won't find us. Ah, my sleek Arrow! my lovely little Arrow, so fast and true! You've done your duty tonight and more! We've run the gantlet, John! We're through their air fleet, and we've left a trail of fire! They won't forget this night!"
John sat silent, while Lannes exulted. Meanwhile the Arrow, piercing the low clouds, rushed westward, unpursued.
CHAPTER VIII
THE FRENCH DEFENSE
They flew on in the darkness, and both remained silent. John at first had felt resentment against Lannes, but he reflected that this was war, and it was no worse to kill with a bomb in the air than with a shell on land. It was hard, however, to convince oneself that destruction and death were sovereigns in Europe.
After a long time Lannes pointed to the east, where a thin gray was showing.
"The sun will soon be up," he said, "and it will drive the last cloud before it. We're going to have a fine day. Look down at this, our France, Monsieur Jean the Scott, and see what a beautiful land it is! Can you wonder that we don't want the armed feet of the Germans to tread it down?"