“News!  News!  For Heaven’s sake, give us news!  Surely you’ve seen from above!”

The man smiled and John knew that a bearer of bad news would not smile.

“I’m the friend and comrade of Philip Lannes,” continued John, feeling that all the flying men of France knew the name of Lannes, and that it would be a password to this man’s good graces.

“I know him well,” said the air scout.  “Who of our craft does not?  My own name is Caumartin, and I have flown with Lannes more than once in the great meets at Rheims.  In answer to your question I’m able to tell you that on the wings the soldiers of France are advancing.  A wedge has been thrust between the German armies and the one nearest Paris is retreating, lest it be cut off.”

Bougainville heard the words, and he ran among the men, telling them.  A fierce shout arose and John himself quivered with feeling.  It was better, far better than he had hoped.  He realized now that his courage before had been the courage of despair.  Lannes and he, as a last resort, had put faith in signs and omens, because there was nothing else to bear them up.

“Is it true?  Is it true beyond doubt!  You’ve really seen it with your own eyes?” he exclaimed.

Caumartin smiled again.  His were deep eyes, and the smile that came from them was reassuring.

“I saw it myself,” he replied.  “At the point nearest Paris the gray masses are withdrawing.  I looked directly down upon them.  And now, can you tell me where I can find General Vaugirard?”

“I wish I could.  I’m on his staff, but I’ve lost him.  He’s somewhere to the northward.”

“Then I’ll find him.”

Caumartin resumed his place in his machine.  John looked longingly at the aeroplane.  He would gladly have gone with Caumartin, but feeling that he would be only a burden at such a time, he would not suggest it.  Nevertheless he called to the aviator: 

“If you see Philip Lannes in the heavens tell him that his friend John Scott is here behind a low ridge crested with trees!”

Caumartin nodded, and as some of the soldiers gave his plane a push he soared swiftly away in search of General Vaugirard.  John watched him a moment or two and then turned his attention back to the German army in front of them.

The thudding of the heavy guns to their left had become so violent that it affected his nerves.  The waves of air beat upon his ears like storm-driven rollers, and he was glad when Bougainville’s regiment moved forward again.  The Germans seemed to have withdrawn some of their force in the center, and, for a little while, the regiment with which John now marched was not under fire.

They heard reserves now coming up behind them, more trains of motor cars, bearing fresh troops, and batteries of field guns advancing as fast as they could.  Men were busy also stringing telephone wires, and, presently, they passed a battery of guns of the largest caliber, the fire of which was directed entirely by telephone.  Some distance beyond it the regiment stopped again.  The huge shells were passing over their heads toward the German lines, and John believed that he could hear and count every one of them.