"That of General Avillon."
"Then, sir, would you be so good as to conduct me to his headquarters? I have been in both Berlin and Vienna in disguise, and on service for our government. I have information and minute maps."
"Come with me at once," said the officer eagerly.
"I ask you to make my comrade comfortable while I am gone. He is an American, John Scott, whom an accident threw with me. He is the bravest of the brave and he's going to serve with us."
Lannes was dramatic and impressive. Again he was the center of a scene that he loved, and, as always, he made the most of it. John reddened at his high praise, and would have withdrawn farther into the crowd, but enthusiastic young officers about him would not let him. "Vive l'Américain!" they shouted and patted him on the shoulders.
Lannes went at once with the captain, and John was left with his new friends. Friends, in truth they were, and their enthusiasm grew as he told of their extraordinary flight, their battle with the Taubes, and the destruction of the Zeppelin by Lannes. Then their applause became thunder, and, seeing it in the distance and the perspective, John became more reconciled to the throwing of the bomb. War was killing and one could not change it.
While they heard his story and cheered him the French did not neglect his comfort. Young officers, many of whom were mere boys, insisted upon entertaining this guest from the air. It was so early that they had not yet had their own breakfasts, and while different groups fought for him he finally sat down beside a fire with a dozen lieutenants of about his own age.
The food was abundant and good, and, as he ate and drank, he was compelled to tell their story over again.
"I'm glad Lannes got that monster, the Zeppelin," said one of the young lieutenants. "God knows we've had little enough success so far. They say we were ready for war, and had planned to strike. But it was the Germans who struck. That proves who had done the planning. They say that our officers were in Belgium, making ready for the French army to march through that country, and yet when the Germans pushed into Belgium they found no French. The accusation refutes itself."
"Are the Germans in Belgium?" asked John, astonished.