Then he glanced at the fields across which they had come.  For two or three miles they were sprinkled with the fallen, the red and blue of the French uniform showing vividly against the green grass.  But there was little time for looking that way and again he turned his glasses in front.  The regiment had taken cover behind a low ridge, and six rapid firers were sending a fierce hail on the German lines.  But the men under orders from Bougainville, withheld the fire of their rifles for the present.

Bougainville himself stood up as became a leader of men, and lowered his sword for the first time.  The cap had sunk all the way down the blade and picking it off he put it back on his head.  He had obtained glasses also, probably from some fallen officer, and he walked back and forth seeking a weak spot in the enemy’s line, into which he could charge with his men.

John admired him.  His was no frenzied rage, but a courage, measured and stern.  The springs of power hidden in him had been touched and he stood forth, a born leader.

“How does it happen,” said John, “that you’re in command?”

“Our officers were all in front,” replied Bougainville, “when our regiment was swept by many shells.  When they ceased bursting upon us and among us the officers were no longer there.  The regiment was about to break.  I could not bear to see that, and seizing the sword, I hoisted my cap upon it.  The rest, perhaps, you saw.  The men seem to trust me.”

“They do,” said John, with emphasis.

Bougainville, for the time at least, was certainly the leader of the regiment.  It was an incident that John believed possible only in his own country, or France, and he remembered once more the famous old saying of Napoleon that every French peasant carried a marshal’s baton in his knapsack.

Now he recalled, too, that Napoleon had fought some of his greatest defensive battles in the region they faced.  Doubtless the mighty emperor and his marshals had trod the very soil on which Bougainville and he now stood.  Surely the French must know it, and surely it would give them superhuman courage for battle.

“I belong to the command of General Vaugirard,” he said to Bougainville.  “I’m serving on his staff, but I was knocked off my motor cycle by the rush of air from a shell.  The cycle was ruined and I was unconscious for a moment or two.  When I revived, my general and his command were gone.”

“You’d better stay with me a while,” said Bougainville.  “We’re going to advance again soon.  When night comes, if you’re still alive, then you can look for General Vaugirard.  The fire of the artillery is increasing.  How the earth shakes!”

“So it does.  I wish I knew what was happening.”

“There comes one of those men in the air.  He is going to drop down by us.  Maybe you can learn something from him.”

John felt a sudden wild hope that it was Lannes, but his luck did not hold good enough for it.  The plane was of another shape than the Arrow, and, when it descended to the ground, a man older than Lannes stepped out upon the grass.  He glanced around as if he were looking for some general of division for whom he had an order, and John, unable to restrain himself, rushed to him and exclaimed: