“A human being, yes, and more.  No human being could carry me above the clouds.  No human being could obey absolutely and without question the simplest touch of my hand.  The Arrow is not human, John, it is superhuman.  You have seen its exploits.”

The dark emitted a figure that advanced toward them, and took the shape of a man with black hair, a short close beard and an intelligent face.  He approached John and Lannes and looked at them closely.

“Mr. Scott!” he exclaimed, with eagerness, “I did not know what had become of you.  I was afraid you were lost in one of the battles!”

“Why, it’s Weber!” said John, “our comrade of the flight in the automobile!  And I was afraid that you too, were dead!”

The two shook hands with great heartiness and Lannes joined in the reunion.  He too at once liked Weber, who always made the impression of courage and quickness.  He wore a new uniform, olive in color with dark blue threads through it, and it became him, setting off his trim, compact figure.

“How did you get here, Mr. Weber?” asked John.

“I scarcely know,” he replied.  “My duties are to a certain extent those of a messenger, but I was caught in the last battle, wounded slightly, and separated from the main French force.  The little company which I had formed tried to break through the German columns, but they were all killed or captured except myself, and maybe two or three others.  I hid in a wood, slept a night there, and then reached Paris to see what is going to happen.  Ah, it is terrible! terrible! my comrades!  The Germans are advancing in five great armies, a million and a half strong, and no troops were ever before equipped so magnificently.”

“Do you know positively that they have a million and a half?” asked Lannes.

“I did not count them,” replied Weber, smiling a little, “but I have heard from many certain sources that such are their numbers.  I fear, gentlemen, that Paris is doomed.”

“Scott and I don’t think so,” said Lannes firmly.  “We’ve gained new courage today.”

Weber was silent for a few moments.  Then he said, giving Lannes his title as an officer: 

“I’ve heard of you, Lieutenant Lannes.  Who does not know the name of France’s most daring aviator?  And doubtless you have information which is unknown to me.  It is altogether likely that one who pierces the air like an eagle should bear messages between generals of the first rank.”

Lannes did not answer, but looked at Weber, who smiled.

“Perhaps our trades are not so very different,” said the Alsatian, “but you shoot through clouds while I crawl on the ground.  You have a great advantage of me in method.”

Lannes smiled back.  The little tribute was pleasing to the dramatic instinct so strong in him.

“You and I, Mr. Weber,” he said, “know enough never to speak of what we’re going to do.  Now, we’ll bid you good night and wish you good luck.  I’d like to be a prophet, even for a day only, and tell what the morrow would bring.”