"We'll rest until our nerves relax," said Lannes, "and then we'll eat."
"Eat! Eat what?"
"What people usually eat. Good food. You don't suppose I embark in the ship of the air like the Arrow for a long flight without provisioning for it. Look at me."
John did look and saw him take from that tiny locker in the Arrow a small bottle, two tin cups, and two packages, one containing crackers, and the other thin strips of dried beef.
"Here," he said, shaking the bottle, "is the light red wine of France. We'd both rather have coffee, but it's impossible, so we'll take the wine which is absolutely harmless. We'll get other good food elsewhere."
He put the food on a little mound of turf between them, and they ate with hunger, but reserve. Neither, although they were on the point of starvation would show the ways of an animal in the presence of the other. So, their breakfast lasted some time, and John had never known food to taste better. When they finished Lannes went back to the locker in the Arrow.
"John," he said, "here are more cartridges. Reload your automatic, and keep watch, though nothing more formidable than the lammergeyer is ever likely to come here. Now, I'll sleep."
He rolled under the lee of a bank, and in two minutes was sleeping soundly.