He acquiesced, and they sat a little while, talking of the things furthest from their hearts.  Julie Lannes withdrew presently, and before long her mother followed.  Lannes went to the window, and looked out over Paris, where the diminished lights twinkled.  John stood at the other window and saw the great blur of the capital.  All sounds were fused into one steady murmur, rather soothing, like the flowing of a river.

He seemed to hear presently the distant thunder of German guns, but reason told him it was only a trick of the imagination.  Nerves keyed high often created the illusion of reality.

“What are you thinking about, Lannes?” he asked.

“Of my mother and sister.  Only the French know the French.  The family tie is powerful with us.”

“I know that, Phil.”

“So you do.  You’re an adopted child of France.  Madame Lannes is a woman of great heart, John.  I am proud to be her son.  I have read of your civil war.  I have read how the mothers of your young soldiers suffered and yet were brave.  None can know how much Madame, my mother, has suffered tonight, with the Germans at the gates of Paris, and yet she has shown no sign of it.”

John was silent.  He did not know what to say, but Lannes did not pursue the subject, remaining a full five minutes at the window, and not speaking again, until he turned away.

“John,” he said then, “let’s go outside and take a look about the quarter.  It’s important now to watch for everything.”

John was full willing.  He recognized the truth of Lannes’ words and he wanted air and exercise also.  A fortress was a fortress, whether one called it a home or not, Lannes led the way and they descended to the lower hall, where the gigantic porter was on watch.

“My friend and I are going to take a look in the streets, Antoine,” said Lannes.  “Guard the house well while we are gone.”

“I will,” replied the man, “but will you tell me one thing, Monsieur Philip?  Do Madame Lannes and Mademoiselle Julie remain in Paris?”

“They do, Antoine, and since I leave tomorrow it will be the duty of you and Suzanne to protect them.”

“I am gratified, sir, that they do not leave the capital.  I have never known a Lannes to flee at the mere rumor of the enemy’s coming.”

“And I hope you never will, Antoine.  I think we’ll be back in an hour.”

“I shall be here, sir.”

He unbolted the door and Lannes and John stepped out, the cool night air pouring in a grateful flood upon their faces.  Antoine fastened the door behind them, and John again heard the massive bolt sink into its place.

“The quarter is uncommonly quiet,” said Lannes.  “I suppose it has a right to be after such a day.”

Then be looked up, scanning the heavens, after the manner that had become natural to him, a flying man.

“What do you see, Philip?” asked John.

“A sky of dark blue, plenty of stars, but no aeroplanes, Taubes or other machines of man’s making.”