CHAPTER VII

THE ZEPPELIN

The brilliant sunlight faded into gray, but the European twilight

lingers, and it was long before night came. John and Lannes stood beside

the Arrow, and for a while neither spoke. They were listening to the

thunder of the great guns and they were trying to imagine how the battle

was swaying over the distant and darkening fields. The last of the air

scouts had disappeared in the dusk.

"The sound doesn't seem to move," said Lannes, "and our men must be

holding their own for the present. Still, it's hard to tell about the

location of sound."

"How far away do you think it is?"

"Many miles. We only hear the giant cannon. Beneath it there must be a

terrible crash of guns and rifles. I've heard, John, that the Germans

have seventeen-inch howitzers, firing shells weighing more than two

thousand pounds, and France furnishes the finest roads in the world for

them to move on."

He spoke with bitterness, but in an instant or two he changed his tone

and said:

"At any rate we haven't made a god out of war, and that's why we haven't

seventeen-inch cannon. Perhaps by not setting up such a god we've gained

something else--republican fire and spirit that nothing can overcome."

The twilight now deepened and the darkness increased fast in the wood,

but the deep thunder on the western horizon did not cease. John thought

he saw flashes of fire from the giant cannon, but he was not sure. It

might be sheaves of rays shot off by the sunken sun, or, again, it might

be his imagination, always vivid, but stimulated to the last degree by

the amazing scenes through which he was passing.

After a while, although the throb of the great guns still came complete

darkness enveloped the grove. It seemed now to John that the sound had

moved farther westward, but Lannes had just shown such keen emotion that

he would not say the Germans were pushing their way farther into France.

However, Lannes himself noticed it. Presently he said:

"The battle goes against us, but you may be sure of one thing, Monsieur

Jean the Scott, we were heavily outnumbered and the German artillery

must have been in caliber as four to our one."

"I've no doubt it's so," said John with abundant sympathy.

"The fire seems to be dying. Probably the night is too dark for the

combat to go on. What do you think we ought to do, John?"

"You're the airman, Phil. I'm only a raw beginner."

"But a beginner who has learned fast. I think the sound of that battle

in France has weakened my nerve for the moment, and I want your advice.

I ask for it again."

"Then suppose we stay where we are. This isn't a bad little forest, as

forests go in Europe, and in the night, at least, it's pretty dark. The

enemy is all around us, and in the air over our heads. Suppose we sleep

here beside the Arrow."

"That's a good sound Yankee head of yours, John. Just as you think, it

would be dangerous for us to run either on land or in the air, and so

we'll stay here and take the chances. I secured two blankets at the

village, and each will have one. You go to sleep, John, and I'll take

the first watch."

"No, I'll take the first. You need rest more than I do. You've been

sailing the Arrow, and, besides, your nerves have been tried harder by

the echo of that battle. Just for a little while I mean to boss. 'Boss,'

I'll explain to you, means in our American idiom a commander, a

Napoleon. Now, stop talking, wrap yourself in your blanket and go to

sleep."

"I obey. But keep your automatic handy."

He fell asleep almost instantly, and John, lying near with his own

blanket about him, kept watch over him and the Arrow. He did not feel

sleepy at all. His nerves had been keyed to too high a pitch for rest to

come yet. His situation and the scenes through which he had passed were

so extraordinary that certain faculties seemed to have become blunted.

Although surrounded by many dangers all sensation of fear was gone.

The blanket was sufficient protection even against the cool European

night, and he had found a soft and comfortable place on the turf. The

wood was silent, save for the rustle of a stray breeze among the leaves.

Far in the night he heard twice the faint boom of the giant cannon deep

down on the western horizon. For all he knew the sounds may have come

from a point twenty miles away.

He walked a little distance from the Arrow, and listened intently. But

after the two shots the west was silent. The earth settled back into

gloom and darkness. He returned to the _Arrow_ and found that Lannes was

still sleeping heavily, his face pale from exertion and from the painful

emotions that he had felt.

John was sorry for him, sorry from the bottom of his heart. Love of

country was almost universal, and it must be almost death to a man,

whose native land, having been trodden deep once, was about to be

trodden again by the same foe.

He went once more to the little stream and took another drink. He sat by

its banks a few minutes, and listened to its faint trickle, a pleasant

soothing sound, like the almost unheard sigh of the wind. Then he

returned to his usual place near the Arrow.

Dead stillness reigned in the grove. There was no wind and the leaves

ceased to rustle. Not another note came from the battle of the nations

beyond the western horizon. The _Arrow_ and its master both lay at peace

on the turf. The stillness, the heavy quiet oppressed John. He had been

in the woods at night many times at home, but there one heard the

croaking of frogs at the water's edge, the buzzing of insects, and now

and then the cry of night birds, but here in this degenerate forest

nothing stirred, and the air was absolutely pulseless.

Time began to lengthen. He looked at his watch, but it was not yet

midnight, and Lannes was still motionless and sleeping. He had resolved,

as most of the strain had fallen upon his comrade, to let him sleep far

beyond his allotted half, and he walked about again, but soundlessly, in

order to keep his faculties awake and keen.

The night had been dark. Many clouds were floating between him and the

moon. He looked up at them, and it seemed incredible now that beyond

them human beings could float above the thunder and lightning, and look

up at the peaceful moon and stars. Yet he had been there, not in any

wild dash of a few minutes, but in a great flight which swept over

nights and days.

His early thoughts were true. A long era had ended, and now one, charged

with wonders and marvels, had begun. This mighty war was the signal of

the change, and it would not be confined to the physical world. The mind

and soul would undergo like changes. People would never look at things

in the same way. There had been such mental revolutions in the long

past, and it was not against nature for another to come now.

John was thoughtful, perhaps beyond his years, but he had been subjected

to tremendous emotions. The unparalleled convulsion of the old world was

enough to make even the foolish think. Event and surmise passed and

repassed through his mind, while he walked up and down in the wood.

Hours crept slowly by, the clouds drifted away, and the moon came out in

a gush of silver. The stars, great and small, danced in a sky that was

always blue, beyond the veil.

He came back for the third time to the brook. He was thirsty that night,

but before he knelt down to drink he paused and every muscle suddenly

became rigid. He was like one of those early borderers in his own land

who had heard a sinister sound in the thicket. It was little, a slight

ring of steel, but every nerve in John was alive on the instant.

Still obeying the instincts of ancestors, he knelt down among the trees.

His vivid fancy might be at work once more! And then it might not! The

ringing of steel on steel came again, then a second time and nearer. He

slid noiselessly forward, and lay with his ear to the earth. Now he

heard other sounds, and among them one clear note, the steady tread of

hoofs.

Cavalry were approaching the grove, but which? German or French? John

knew that he ought to go and awake Lannes at once, but old inherited

instincts, suddenly leaping into power, held him. By some marvelous

mental process he reverted to a period generations ago. His curiosity

was great, and his confidence in his powers absolute.

He dragged himself twenty or thirty yards along the edge of the brook

toward the tread of hoofs, and soon he heard them with great

distinctness. Mingled with the sound was the jingling of bits and the

occasional impact of a steel lance-head upon another. John believed now

that they were Germans and he began to creep away from the brook, toward

which the troop was coming directly. It was not possible to estimate

well from sound, but he thought they numbered at least five hundred.

He was back thirty yards from the brook, lying flat in the grass, when

the heads of horses and men emerged from the shadows. The helmets showed

him at once that they were the Uhlans, and without the helmets the face

of the leader alone was sufficient to tell him that the Prussian

horsemen had ridden into the wood.

The one who rode first with his helmet thrown back a little was Rudolf

von Boehlen, the man with whom John had talked at Dresden, and who had

made such an impression upon him. He had known the scholarly Prussian,

the industrial Prussian, and the simple good-natured Prussian of the

soil, but here was the Prussian to whom the first god was Mars, with the

Kaiser as his prophet. It was he, and such as he, who ruled the

industrious and kindly German people, teaching them that might was

right, and that they always possessed both.

John saw through the eyes of both fact and fancy. Von Boehlen was a

figure of power. Mind and body were now at the work for which they had

been trained, and to which the nature of their owner turned them.

Despite his size and weight he sat his horse with lightness and grace,

and his cold blue eyes searched the forest for victims rather than foes.

John saw in him the product of ceaseless and ruthless training, helped

by nature.

But von Boehlen, keen as his eyes were, did not see the figure of the

watcher prone in the grass. He let his horse drink at the brook, and

others rode up by his side, until there was a long line of horses with

their heads bent down to the stream. It occurred to John then that their

only purpose in entering the wood was to water their animals. He saw von

Boehlen take a map from his pocket, and study it while the horse drank.

He was not surprised at the act. He had no doubt that the brook, tiny

though it might be, was marked on the map. He had heard that the Germans

foresaw everything, attended to the last detail, and now he was seeing a

proof of it. How was it possible to beat them!

He did not consider the danger great, as he listened to the long lapping

and gurgling sound, made by so many horses drinking. It was likely that

the whole troop would ride away in a few minutes, and only a possible

chance would take them in the direction where the _Arrow_ and Lannes

lay. But the trees grew thickly in the circle about them, and that

chance was infinitely small.

The Uhlans, under the lead of von Boehlen, turned presently, and rode

back through the edge of the wood into a field, but they went no

farther. John, following a safe distance, saw them unsaddle on the grass

and make their camp. Then he hurried back to Lannes and awoke him

gently.

"What! what is it?" exclaimed Lannes. "The Germans in Paris! The capital

fallen, you say!"

"No! No! Not so loud! Come out of your dreams! Paris is all right, but

there are Uhlans just beyond the edge of the wood, and some scouts of

theirs may come tramping here."

Lannes was thoroughly awake in another instant.

"You did not wake me when my time came, John," he said.

"I didn't because you needed the rest more than I did."

"Where did you say the Uhlans were?"

"In a field at the eastern edge of the wood. They are Prussians led by

an officer, von Boehlen, whom I saw at Dresden before the war began.

They rode into the wood to water their horses, but now they've gone back

to make a camp."

"You've certainly watched well, John, and now I suppose we must run

again. They follow us in the air and they follow us on the ground. This

is a bad trap, John. Suppose you go to von Boehlen, tell him who you

are, how you were kidnapped in a way, and throw yourself on his mercy.

You'll be safe. The Germans want the friendship of the Americans."

"And desert you at such a time? Philip Lannes, you're not worthy to bear

the name of the great Marshal!"

Lannes laughed in an embarrassed manner.

"It was merely an offer," he said. "I didn't expect you to accept it."

"You knew I wouldn't. Come, think quick, and tell us what we're going to

do!"

"You fit fast into your new role of what you call boss, Monsieur Jean

the Scott!"

"And I mean to be boss for the next five minutes. Then you will have

decided how we're going to escape and you'll resume your place."

"As I said we won't abandon the Arrow, so our passage will be through

the air. John, I mean that we shall run the gantlet. We'll pass their

air fleet and reach our own."

He spoke in low tones, but they contained the ring of daring. John

responded. With the ending of the era, the changing of the world, he had

changed, too. Shy and sensitive the spirit of adventure flamed up in

him. Those flights in the air had touched him with the magic of

achievements, impossible, but which yet had been done.

"Suppose we launch the _Arrow_ at once," he said. "I'm ready to try

anything with you."

"I knew that, too. One thing in our favor is the number of clouds

hanging low in the west, where their air fleet is. It's likely that most

of the planes and dirigibles have gone to the ground, but they'll keep

enough above to watch. The clouds may enable us to slip by."

"If I had my way I'd wrap myself in the thickest and blackest of the

clouds and float westward with it."

"We'll have to go slowly to keep down the drumming of the motor. Now a

big push and a long push. So! There! Now we're rising!"

The Arrow, the strength and delicacy of which justified all of Lannes'

pride, rose like a feather, and floated gracefully above the trees,

where it hung poised for a few minutes. Then, as they were not able to

see anything, Lannes took it a few hundred yards higher. There they

caught the gleam of steel beyond the wood, and looked down on the camp

of Uhlans.

With the aid of the glasses they saw most of the men asleep on the

ground, but twenty on horseback kept watch about the field.

"One look is enough," said Lannes. "I hope I'll never see 'em again."

"Maybe not, but there are millions of Germans."

"That's the worst of it. Millions of 'em and all armed and ready. John,

I've chosen our road. We'll go north by west, and I think we'd better

rise high. During the night the German machines are likely to hang low,

and we may be able to pass over 'em without detection. What do you think

of those clouds?"

"They're not drifting much. They may hide us as a fog hides a ship at

sea."

The _Arrow_ began to soar. The Uhlans and the grove soon faded away, and

they rode among the clouds. John's watch showed that it was about three

o'clock in the morning. He no longer felt the chill of the air in those

upper regions. Excitement and suspense made his blood leap, warm,

through his veins.

Lannes, after his long sleep, was stronger and keener than ever. His

hand on the steering rudder knew no uncertainty, and always he peered

through the clouds for a sign of the foe, who, he knew well, was to be

dreaded so much. John, glasses at eye, sought the same enemy.

But they heard and saw nothing, save the sights and sounds of the

elements. A cold, wet wind flew across their faces, and the planet below

once more turned in space, invisible to eye.

"One could almost think," said John, "that we don't turn with it, that

we hang here in the void, while it whirls about, independent of us."

"I wish that were so," said Lannes with a laugh. "Then we could stay

where we are, while it turned around enough beneath us to take the

Germans far away. But don't you hear a faint buzzing there to the west,

John?"

"Yes, I was just about to speak of it, and I know the sound, too. It's

one of the big Zeppelins."

"Then it's likely to be much below. I judge from the presence of the

trees that, we must be somewhere near the German outposts."

"I wish that we dared to descend enough to see."

"But we don't dare, Monsieur Jean the Scott. We'd drop into a nest of

hornets."

"Better slow down then. Their scouting planes must be somewhere near."

"Good advice again. Oh, you're learning fast. And meanwhile you're

committing yourself more and more deeply to our cause."

"I've already committed myself deeply enough. I've told you that your

prediction about my joining a British force is true."

"But you'll have to stay with us French until the British come. John, is

it my imagination or do I hear that buzzing below us again?"

"You really hear it, and I do, too. It's a big Zeppelin beyond a doubt,

and therefore we must not be far from a German base. You know they have

to build huge sheds in which to keep the Zeppelins."

"No doubt they have such a station near enough on their side of the

border. But, John, I'm going to have a look at that air-elephant. In all

this thick darkness they'd never know what we are. Are you ready for

it?"

"Ready and anxious."

The _Arrow_ dropped down toward the buzzing sound, which rapidly grew

louder. John had heard that a silencer had been invented for Zeppelins,

but either it was a mistake or they apprehended a hostile presence so

little that they did not care to use it.

He was rapidly becoming inured to extreme danger, but his heart throbbed

nevertheless, and he felt the chill of the high damp air. At the

suggestion of Lannes, who called him the eyes of the ship, he retained

the glasses, and, with them, sought continually to pierce the heavy

masses of cloud. He could not yet see anything, but the heavy buzzing

noise, much like the rattling of a train, increased steadily. The

Zeppelin could not be very far beneath them now.

John felt a sudden rush of wind near him and a dark object swung by.

Lannes swiftly changed their own course, and darted almost at a right

angle in the darkness.

"A Taube?" whispered John.

"Yes, one of the armored kind. Two men were in it, and most likely they

carried rifles. They're on watch despite the night. Maybe they fear some

of our own planes, which must be not many miles in front. Oh, France, is

not sleeping, John! Don't think that! We are not prepared as the Germans

were, but we've the tools, and we know how to use them."

He corrected the course of the _Arrow_ and again dropped down slowly

toward the Zeppelin. John's eyes, used to the darkness, caught a glimpse

of Lannes' face, and he was surprised. He had never before seen one

express such terrible resolution. Some dim idea of his purpose entered

the American's mind, but he did not yet realize it fully.

But his sense of the weird, of acting in elements, hitherto unknown to

man, grew. The Arrow, smooth, sleek and dangerous as death, was feeling

its way in the darkness among a swarm of enemies. Its very safety lay in

the fact that it was one among many, and, wrapped in the dark, the

others could not tell its real character, fifty feet away.

John could truthfully say to himself afterwards that he did not feel

fear at that time. He was so absorbed, so much overwhelmed by the

excitement, the novelty and the cloud of darkness hiding all these

actors in the heavens that no room was left in him for fear.

Lower and lower they dropped. The Zeppelin, evidently not far above the

earth, was moving slowly.

John was reminded irresistibly of an enormous whale lounging in the

depths of the ocean, which here was made up of heavy clouds. In another

minute by the aid of the powerful glasses he made out two captive

balloons, and a little farther westward three aeroplanes flying about

like sentinels pacing their beats. He also saw beneath them lights which

he knew to be the fires of a great camp, but he could not see the men

and the cannon.

"The German camp is beneath us," he said.

"I thought you'd find it there," returned Lannes bitterly. "It's where

our own camp ought to be, but our men were defeated in that battle which

we heard, and here the Germans are."

John did not see him this time, but the look of pitiless resolve in the

eyes of the young Frenchman deepened. That the Germans should come upon

the soil of France and drive the French before them overwhelmed him with

an agony that left no room for mercy.

"There goes another of the Taubes," he whispered, as a shadow flitted to

the right "They're cruising about in lively fashion. If anybody hails us

don't answer. I'll turn away in the darkness, pretending that we haven't

heard."

The hail came almost as he spoke, but the Arrow veered to one side again

at an angle, and then, after a few minutes, came back to a point, where

it hovered directly over the Zeppelin and not far away. John saw beneath

them now the huge shape, ploughing along slowly through the heavy bank

of air. It loomed, in the darkness, a form, monstrous and incredible.

"Are we just over the thing, John?" asked Lannes.

"Exactly. Look down and you can see."

"I see."

Then his arm flashed out, and he hurled something downward with all the

concentrated force of hate. There came a stunning crash mingled with

rending and tearing sounds and frightened cries, and then the monstrous

shape was gone. The place where it had hung in the heavens was empty and

silent.

John's heart missed a dozen beats. His jaw fell and he stared at Lannes.

"Yes, I intended it from the first," said Lannes, "and I haven't a

single compunction. I got that bomb, and three others in the Swiss

village when I left you at the inn. I did not tell you of them

because--well, because, I thought it better to keep the secret to

myself. It's war. The men in that Zeppelin came to destroy our towns and

to kill our men."

"I'm not accusing you. I suppose, as you say, it's war. But hadn't we

better get away from here as fast as we can?"

"We're doing it now. While we were talking I was steering the _Arrow_

westward. Hark, do you hear those shots!"

"I hear them. It can't be that they're firing at random in the air, as

they would be more likely to hit one another than a slim and single

little shape like the Arrow."

"They're signaling. Of course they're organized, and they're probably

trying to draw all the planes to one spot, after which they'll spread

out and seek us. But they won't find us. Ah, my sleek Arrow! my lovely

little Arrow, so fast and true! You've done your duty tonight and more!

We've run the gantlet, John! We're through their air fleet, and we've

left a trail of fire! They won't forget this night!"

John sat silent, while Lannes exulted. Meanwhile the Arrow, piercing the

low clouds, rushed westward, unpursued.

The Guns of Europe · 第 7 / 15 章