“Perhaps I ought to be in the sky myself with the others,” he said, “but I’d only see what I don’t like to see.  The Arrow and I can’t be of any help now.”

“You brought me here in the Arrow, Lannes,” said John, seeking to assume a light tone.  “Now what do you intend to do with me?  As everybody is leaving Paris you ought to get me out of it.”

“I hardly know what to do.  There are no orders.  I’ve lost touch with the commander of our flying corps, but you’re right in concluding that we shouldn’t remain in Paris.  Now where are we to go?”

“We’ll make no mistake if we seek the battle front.  You know I’m bound to rejoin my company, the Strangers, if I can.  I must report as soon as possible to Captain Colton.”

“That’s true, John, but I can’t leave Paris until tomorrow.  I may have orders to carry, I must obtain supplies for the Arrow, and I wish to visit once more my people on the other side of the Seine.”

“Suppose you go now, and I’ll meet you this afternoon in the Place de l’Opera.”

“Good.  Say three o’clock.  The first to arrive will await the other before the steps of the Opera House?”

John nodded assent and Lannes hurried away.  Young Scott followed his figure with his eyes until it disappeared in the crowd.  A back may be an index to a man’s strength of mind, and he saw that Lannes, head erect and shoulders thrown back, was walking with a rapid and springy step.  Courage was obviously there.

But John, despite his own strong heart, could not keep from feeling an infinite sadness and pity, not for Lannes, but for all the three million people who inhabited the City of Light, most of whom were fleeing now before the advance of the victorious invader.  He could put himself in their place.  France held his deepest sympathy.  He felt that a great nation, sedulously minding its own business, trampled upon and robbed once before, was now about to be trampled upon and robbed again.  He could not subscribe to the doctrine, that might was right.

He watched the fugitives a long time.  They were crowding the railway stations, and they were departing by motor, by cart and on foot.  Many of the poorer people, both men and women, carried packs on their backs.  The boulevards and the streets were filled with the retreating masses.

It was an amazing and stupefying sight, the abandonment by its inhabitants of a great city, a city in many ways the first in the world, and it gave John a mighty shock.  He had been there with his uncle and Mr. Anson in the spring, and he had seen nothing but peace and brightness.  The sun had glittered then, as it glittered now over the Arc de Triomphe, the gleaming dome of the Invalides and the golden waters of the Seine.  It was Paris, soft, beautiful and bright, the Paris that wished no harm to anybody.

But the people were going.  He could see them going everywhere.  The cruel, ancient times when cities were destroyed or enslaved by the conqueror had come back, and the great Paris that the world had known so long might become lost forever.