Then they fell silent, their emotion too deep for speech.  Philip had spoken in jest, but it was almost like a wedding trip.  The hussars below had reached the abandoned automobile, and fired vain shots at the disappearing aeroplanes, but John and Julie heeded them not.  War and brute passions were left behind, and they were sailing through the calm blue ether.

Caumartin, the stalwart, was wholly absorbed in steering his great machine and they sat behind him, very close together, still hand in hand, watching the great panorama of the heavens, unrolled before them.  It was the most beautiful sky that they had ever seen, dyed that day into intensely vivid colors by the master hand.  Far away were great pink terraces of color, changing to blue or gold or silver, while below them revolved the earth, clad in deepest green, save where far peaks were crested with snow.

Both John and Julie breathed an infinite peace.  The war sank farther and farther away, as they sailed on through peaceful heavens, surcharged with infinite color.  Both felt, with the certainty of truth, that their troubles and dangers were over, and they now left the journey and its needs to Philip and his able comrades.

“After we’re married, Julie, you’ll go to America with me for awhile,” said John, “but we’ll come back to France.  We shall divide our time between two homes, your country and mine, now the countries of both.”

The hand within his own returned his pressure.  Caumartin turned his machine toward the north, avoiding neutral Switzerland, and sailing at great speed they passed beyond the German lines and over the fair land of France that all of them loved so well.

Caumartin kept his place in front.  Suzanne was in the machine just behind and Philip and Picard in the Arrow always hovered in the rear.  That night they descended within the French lines, and John heard the next day that Prince Karl of Auersperg had been killed in battle.  It was singular, perhaps, but John felt a touch of pity for him.  He had wanted something very greatly and, powerful prince though he was, his power had not been great enough to win it for him.

* * * * *

They were married in Notre Dame by the Archbishop of Paris.  The influence of John’s uncle, the senator and great mining millionaire, was sufficient to procure John’s release from the army.  In truth, General Vaugirard, although he was fat and sixty, had a strong vein of sentiment, and he was one of the most distinguished guests in Notre Dame, where he puffed mightily and kept himself with great difficulty from whistling his approval.  He and Senator Pomeroy stood together and he nodded emphatically when the senator told him, with a certain pride in his whisper, that while John, his sole heir, was not a prince, he could buy and sell many who were.

General Vaugirard was not the only distinguished officer at the marriage.  There was a lull in the operations and all of John’s friends came to Paris to see him wed the beautiful Julie Lannes.  A little man, with the brow of a Napoleon, the famous general, Bougainville, whose rise had been so astonishing, stood beside General Vaugirard.