The Forest of Swords Part 21

"Look! the aeroplanes!" said John, pointing toward the hills which he now called to himself the French line.

Numerous dark shapes, forty or fifty at least, appeared in the sky and hovered over the western edge of the wide, shallow basin. John was sure that they were the French scouts of the blue, appearing almost in line like troops on the ground, and his heart gave a great throb. No doubt could be left now, that this German army was being attacked in force and with the greatest violence. It followed then that the entire German line was being a.s.sailed, and that the French victory was continuing its advance. The Republic had rallied grandly and was hurling back the Empire in the most magnificent manner.

All those emotions of joy and exultation that he had felt the day before returned with increased force. In daily contact he liked Germans as well as Frenchmen, but he thought that no punishment could ever be adequate for the gigantic crimes of kings. Napoleon himself had been the champion of democracy and freedom, until he became an emperor and his head swelled so much with success that he thought of G.o.d and himself together, just as the Kaiser was now thinking. It was a curious inversion that the French who were fighting then to dominate Europe were fighting now to prevent such a domination. But it was now a great French republican nation remade and reinvigorated, as any one could see.

The guards hurried them on again. Another mile and they stopped once more on the crest of a low hill, where it seemed that they would remain some time, as the Germans were too busy with a vast battle to think much about a few prisoners. It was evident that the whole army was engaged.

The old general, the other generals, the princes and perhaps dukes and barons too, were in the thick of it. John's heart was filled with an intense hatred of the very name of royalty. Kings and princes could be good men personally, but as he saw its work upon the huge battle fields of Europe he felt that the inst.i.tution itself was the curse of the earth.

"We shall win again today," said Fleury, rousing him from his absorption. "Look across the fields, Scott, my friend, and see how those great ma.s.ses of infantry charging our army have been repulsed."

It was a far look, and at the distance the German brigades seemed to be blended together, but the great gray ma.s.s was coming back slowly. He forgot all about himself and his own fate in his desire to see every act of the gigantic drama as it pa.s.sed before him. He took no thought of escape at present, nor did Fleury, who stood beside him. The fire of the guns great and small had now blended into the usual steady thunder, beneath which human voices could be heard.

"We don't have the forty-two centimeters, nor the great siege guns,"

said Fleury, "but the French field artillery is the best in the world.

It's undoubtedly holding back the German hosts and covering the French advance."

"That's my opinion, too," said John. "I saw its wonderful work in the retreat toward Paris. I think it saved the early French armies from destruction."

The German army was made of stern material. Having planted its feet here it refused to be driven back. Its cannon was a line of flaming volcanoes, its cavalry charged again and again into the face of death, and its infantry perished in ma.s.ses, but the stern old general spared nothing. Pa.s.sing up and down the lines, listening at the telephone and receiving the reports of air scouts and land scouts, he always hurled in fresh troops at the critical points and Fritz and Karl and Wilhelm and August, sober and honest men, went forward willingly, sometimes singing and sometimes in silence, to die for a false and outworn system.

John as a prisoner had a better view than he would have had if with the French army. In a country open now he could see a full mile to right and left, where the German hosts marched again and again to attack, and while the French troops were too far away for his eyes he beheld the continuous flare of their fire, like a broad red ribbon across the whole western horizon.

The pa.s.sing of time was nothing to him. He forgot all about it in his absorption. But the sun climbed on, afternoon came, and still the battle at this point raged, the French unable to drive the Germans farther and the Germans unable to stop the French attacks. John roused himself and endeavored to dissociate the thunder on their flanks from that in front, and, after long listening, he was able to make the separation, or at least he thought so. He knew now that the struggle there was no less fierce than the one before him.

The Kaiser himself must be present with one or the other of these armies, and a man who had talked for more than twenty years of his divine right, his s.h.i.+ning armor, his invincible sword and his mailed fist must be raging with the bitterness of death to find that he was only a mortal like other mortals, and that simple French republicans were defeating the War Lord, his Grand Army and the host of kings, princes, dukes, barons, high-born, very high-born, and all the other relics of medievalism. Dipped to the heel and beyond in the fountain of democracy, John could not keep from feeling a fierce joy as he saw with his own eyes the Germans fighting in the utmost desperation, not to take Paris and destroy France, but to save themselves from destruction.

The afternoon, slow and bright, save for the battle, dragged on. Scott and Fleury kept together. Weber appeared once more and spoke rather despondently. He believed that the Germans would hold fast, and might even resume the offensive toward Paris again, but Fleury shook his head.

"Today is like yesterday," he said.

"How can you tell?" asked Weber.

"Because the fire on both flanks is slowly moving eastward, that is, the Germans there are yielding ground. My ears, trained to note such things, tell me so. My friend, I am not mistaken."

He spoke gravely, without exultation, but John took fresh hope from his words. Toward night the fire in their front died somewhat, and after sunset it sank lower, but they still heard a prodigious volume of firing on both flanks. John remembered then that they had eaten nothing since morning, but when some of the prisoners who spoke German requested food it was served to them.

Night came over what seemed to be a drawn battle at this point, and after eating his brief supper John saw the automobiles and stretchers bringing in the wounded. They pa.s.sed him in thousands and thousands, hurt in every conceivable manner. At first he could scarcely bear to look at them, but it was astonis.h.i.+ng how soon one hardened to such sights.

The wounded were being carried to improvised hospitals in the rear, but so far as John knew the dead were left on the field. The Germans with their usual thorough system worked rapidly and smoothly, but he noticed that the fires were but very few. There was but little light in the wood of Senouart or the hills beyond, and there was little, too, on the ridges that marked the French position.

John kept near the edges of the s.p.a.ce allotted to the prisoners, hoping that he might again see von Arnheim. He had discovered early that the Germans were unusually kind to Americans, and the fact that he had been taken fighting against them did not prevent them from showing generous treatment. The officer in charge of the guard even wanted to talk to him about the war and prove to him how jealousy had caused the other nations to set upon Germany. But John evaded him and continued to look for the young prince who was serving as a mere lieutenant.

It was about an hour after dark when he caught his first glimpse of von Arnheim, and he was really glad to see that he was not wounded.

"I've come to tell you, Mr. Scott," said von Arnheim, "that all of you must march at once. You will cross the Marne, and then pa.s.s as prisoners into Germany. You will be well treated there and I think you can probably secure your release on condition that you return to your own country and take no further part in the war."

John shook his head.

"I don't expect any harshness from the Germans," he said, "but I'm in this war to stay, if the bullets and sh.e.l.ls will let me. I warn you now that I'm going to escape."

Von Arnheim laughed pleasantly.

"It's fair of you to give us warning of your intentions," he said, "but I don't think you'll have much chance. You must get ready to start at once."

"I take it," said John, "that our departure means the departure of the German army also."

Von Arnheim opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it again suddenly.

"It's only a deduction of mine," said John.

Von Arnheim nodded in farewell and hurried away.

"Now I'm sure," said John to Fleury a few minutes later, "that this army is going to withdraw."

"I think so too," said Fleury. "I can yet hear the fire of the cannon on either flank and it has certainly moved to the east. In my opinion, my friend, both German wings have been defeated, and this central army is compelled to fall back because it's left without supports. But we'll soon see. They can't hide from us the evidences of retreat."

The prisoners now marched in a long file in the moonlight across the fields, and John soon recognized the proof that Fleury was right. The German army was retreating. There were innumerable dull, rumbling sounds, made by the cannon and motors of all kinds pa.s.sing along the roads, and at times also he heard the heavy tramp of scores of thousands marching in a direction that did not lead to Paris.

John began to think now of Lannes. Would he come? Was Weber right when he credited to him a knowledge near to omniscience? How was it possible for him to pick out a friend in all that huge mora.s.s of battle! And yet he had a wonderful, almost an unreasoning faith in Philip, and, as always when he thought of him, he looked up at the heavens.

It was an average night, one in which large objects should be visible in the skies, and he saw several aeroplanes almost over their heads, while the rattle of a dirigible came from a point further toward the east.

The aeroplane was bound to be German, but as John looked he saw a sleek shape darting high over them all and flying eastward. Intuition, or perhaps it was something in the motion and shape of the machine, made him believe it was the _Arrow_. It must be the _Arrow_! And Lannes must be in it! High over the army and high over the German planes it darted forward like a swallow and disappeared in a cloud of white mist. His hair lifted a little, and a thrill ran down his spine.

He still looked up as he walked along, and there was the sleek shape again! It had come back out of the white mist, and was circling over the German planes, flying with the speed and certainty of an eagle. He saw three of the German machines whirl about and begin to mount as if they would examine the stranger. But the solitary plane began to rise again in a series of dazzling circles. Up, up it went, as if it would penetrate the last and thinnest layer of air, until it reached the dark and empty void beyond.

The _Arrow_--he was sure it could be no other--was quickly lost in the infinite heights, and then the German planes were lost, too, but they soon came back, although the _Arrow_ did not. It had probably returned to some point over the French line or had gone eastward beyond the Germans.

John felt that he had again seen a sign. He remembered how he and Lannes had drawn hope from omens when they were looking at the Arc de Triomphe, and a similar hope sprang up now. Weber was right! Lannes would come to his rescue. Some thought or impulse yet unknown would guide him.

Light clouds now drifted up from the southwest, and all the aeroplanes were hidden, but the heavy murmur of the marching army went on. The puffing and clas.h.i.+ng of innumerable automobiles came from the roads also, though John soon ceased to pay attention to them. As the hours pa.s.sed, he felt an increased weariness. He had sat still almost the whole day, but the strain of the watching and waiting had been as great as that of the walking now was. He wondered if the guards would ever let them stop.

They waded another brook, pa.s.sed through another wood and then they were ordered to halt. The guards announced that they could sleep, as they would go no farther that night. The men did not lie down. They fell, and each lay where he fell, and in whatever position he had a.s.sumed when falling.

John was conscious of hearing the order, of striking the gra.s.s full length, and he knew nothing more until the next morning when he was aroused by Fleury. He saw a whitish dawn with much mist floating over the fields, and he believed that a large river, probably the Marne, must be near.

As far as he could see the ground was covered with German soldiers. They too had dropped at the command to stop, and had gone to sleep as they were falling. The majority of them still slept.

"What is it, Fleury? Why did you wake me up?" asked John.

"The river Marne is close by, and I'm sure that the Germans are going to retreat across it. I had an idea that possibly we might escape while there's so much mist. They can't watch us very closely while they have so much else to do, and doubtless they would care but little if some of us did escape."

"We'll certainly look for the chance. Can you see any sign of the French pursuit?"

"Not yet, but our people will surely follow. They're still at it already on the flanks!"

The distant thunder of cannon came from both right and left.

"A third day of fighting is at hand," said Fleury.