The last words were almost inaudible, and John from the corner of his eye saw his comrade’s head droop.  He knew that Lannes had become unconscious and now, appalling though the situation was, he rose to the crisis.

He knew the immensity of their danger.  A sudden movement of the rudder and the aeroplane might be wrecked.  And in such a position the nerves of a novice were subject at any time to a jerk.  They might be assailed by another treacherous machine, the dangers, in truth, were uncountable, but he was upborne by a tremendous desire to carry the word and to save Lannes and himself.

In the face of intense resolve all obstacles became as nothing and his hand steadied on the rudder.  He knew that when it came to the air he was no Lannes and never could be.  The solid earth, no matter how much it rolled around the sun or around itself, was his favorite field of action, but he felt that he must make one flight, when he carried with him perhaps the fate of a nation.

The Arrow was still rocking from side to side and dipping and jumping.  Slowly he steadied it, handling the rudder as if it were a loaded weapon, and gradually his heart began to pound with triumph.  It was no such flying as the hand of Lannes drew from the Arrow, but to John it seemed splendid for a first trial.  He let the machine drop a little until it was only six or seven hundred yards above the earth, and took wary glances from side to side.  He feared another pursuer, but the air seemed clear.

Lannes had sunk a little further forward.  John saw that the bleeding from his head had ceased.  There was a dark stain down either cheek, but it was drying there, and as Lannes had foreseen, his hair and the cap had acted as a bandage, at last checking the flow effectively.  His breathing was heavy and jerky, but John believed that he would revive before long.  It was not possible that one so vital as Lannes, so eager for great action, could die thus.

Now he looked ahead.  Their landmarks as Lannes had told him before the fight, were to be a high hill, a low hill, and a small stream flowing between.  Just behind it they would find a great French army marching northward and their errand would be over.  He did not yet see the hills, but he was sure that he was still in the pathway of the air.

He had left Paris far behind, but when he looked down he saw a beautiful country, a fertile land upon which man had worked for two thousand years, too beautiful to be trodden to pieces by armies.  He saw the cultivated fields, varying in color like a checker board, and the neat villages with trees about them.  Here and there the spire of a church rose high above everything.  Churches and wars were so numerous in Europe!

John checked the speed of the Arrow.  He was afraid, despite all his high resolve, to fly fast, and then he must not go beyond the army for which he was looking.  He dropped a little lower as he was passing over a wood, and then he heard the crack of rifles beneath him.  Bullets whizzed and sang past his ears and he took one fearful glance downward.