"Frenchmen, Frenchmen, Frenchmen, infantry in thousands and scores of thousands, big guns in scores and hundreds, cuirassiers, hussars, cannoneers! Ah! It's a sight to kindle a dead heart back to life! John, this is one of the great wheels in the mighty machine that is to move forward! Here come two aeroplanes, scouts sent forward to see who and what we are." "You are sure they contain genuine Frenchmen?
Remember the fellow who shot you." "Frenchmen, good and true.

I can see them for myself." He moved his hand, and in a few moments John heard hissing and purring near, as if great birds were flying to meet him.

The outlines of the hovering planes showed by his side, and Lannes called in a loud voice to shrouded and visored men.
"Philip Lannes and his comrade, John Scott, with a message from Paris to the commander!" he exclaimed.
He was his old self again, erect, intense, dramatic.

He evidently expected the name Philip Lannes to be known well to them, and it was, as a cheer followed high in air.
"Now, John," said Lannes, "Be careful! Your hardest task is before you, to land.

But I've noticed that with you the harder the task the better you do it.