THE PUZZLING SIGNAL
When John awoke a bright sun was shining in at the window, bringing with it the distant mutter of cannon, a small fire was burning on the hearth on the opposite side of the room, a man was bending over the coals, and the pleasant odor of boiling coffee came to his nostrils. He sat up in amazement and looked at the man who, not turning around, went on placidly with his work of preparing breakfast. But he recognized the figure.
"Weber!" he exclaimed.
"None other!" said the Alsatian, facing about, and showing a cheery countenance. "I was in the boat just behind you when your own was demolished by the shell. In all the spray and foam and confusion I saw my chance, and dropping overboard from ours I floated with the stream. I had an idea that you might escape, and since you must come down the river between the two armies I also, for the same reasons, chose the same path. I came upon this cottage several hours ago, picked the fastenings of the door and to my astonishment and delight found you, my friend, unharmed, but sound asleep upon the bench there. I slept a while in the corner, then I undertook to make breakfast with provisions and utensils that I found in the forest. Ah, it was easy enough last night to find almost anything one wished. The fields and forest were full of dead men."
"I provided myself in the same way, but I'm delighted to see you. I was never before in my life so lonely. How chance seems to throw us together so often!"
"And we've both profited by it. The coffee is boiling now, Mr. Scott. I've a good German coffee pot and two cups that I took from the fallen. God rest their souls, they'll need them no more, while we do."
"The battle goes on," said John, listening a moment at the window.
"Somewhere on the hundred mile line it has continued without a break of an instant, and it may go on this way for a week or a month. Ah, it's a fearful war, Mr. Scott, and we've seen only the beginning! But drink the coffee now, while it's hot. And I've warmed too, some of the cold food from the knapsacks. German sausage is good at any time."
"And just now it's heavenly. I'm glad we have such a plentiful supply of sausage and bread, even if we did have to take it from the dead. I want to tell you again how pleasant it is to see you here."
"I feel that way too. We're like comrades united. Now if we only had your English friend Carstairs, your American friend Wharton, and Lannes we'd be quite a family group."
"I fancy that we'll see Lannes before we do Carstairs and Wharton."
"I think so too. He'll certainly be hovering today somewhere over the ground between the two armies—either to observe the Germans or more likely to carry messages between the French generals. I tell you, Mr. Scott, that Philip Lannes is perhaps the most wonderful young man in Europe. In addition to his extraordinary ability in the air he has courage, coolness, perception and quickness almost without equal. There's something Napoleonic about him."
"You know he's descended from the family of the famous Marshal, Lannes, not from Lannes himself, but from a close relative, and the blood's the same. They say that blood will tell, and don't you think that the spirit of the great Lannes may have reappeared in Philip?"
"It's altogether likely."
"I've been thinking a lot about Napoleon. There's a wonderful picture of him as a young republican general in a room here. Perhaps it's the conditions around us, but at times I am sure the heroic days of the First Republic have returned to France. The spirit that animated Hoche and Marceau and Kleber and Bonaparte, before he became spoiled, seems to have descended upon the French. And there were Murat, Lannes and Lefebvre, and Berthier and the others. Think of that wonderful crowd of boys leading the republican armies to victories over all the kings! It seems to me the most marvelous thing in the history of war, since the Greeks turned back the Persians."
Weber refilled his coffee cup, drank a portion of it, and said:
"I have thought of it, Mr. Scott, I have thought of it more than once. It may be that the Gallic fury has been aroused. It has seemed so to me since the German armies were turned back from Paris. The French have burned more gunpowder than any other nation in Europe, and they're a fighting race. It would appear now that the Terrible Year, 1870, was merely an aggregation of mistakes, and did not represent either the wisdom or natural genius of the nation."
"That is, the French were then far below normal, as we would say, but have now returned to their best, and that the two Kaisers made the mistake of thinking the French in their lowest form were the French in their usual form?"
"It may be so," said Weber, thoughtfully. "Nations reckon their strength in peace, but only war itself discloses the fact. Evidently tremendous miscalculations have been made by somebody."
"By somebody? By whom? That's why I'm against the Kaisers and all the secret business of the military monarchies. War made over night by a dozen men! a third of the world's population plunged into battle! and the rest drawn into the suffering some way or other! I don't like a lot of your European ways."
Weber shook his head.
"We've inherited kings," he said. "But how did you find this place?"
"Accident. Stumbled on it, and mighty grateful I was, too. It kept me warm and dry after standing so long in the Marne I thought I was bound to turn into a fish. Isolated little place, but the Germans have been passing near. Before sleeping last night, I went out scouting and as I stood behind a hedge I saw a lot of them. I recognized in a motor the Very High Born, his High Mightiness, the owner of the earth, the Prince of Auersperg."
Weber took another drink of coffee.
"An able man and one of our most bitter enemies," he said. "A foe of democracy everywhere. I think he was to have been made governor of Paris, and then Paris would have known that it had a governor. I've seen him in Alsace, and I've heard a lot about him."
"But all that's off now. I fancy that the next governor of Paris, if it should have a governor, will be a Frenchman. But the day is advancing, Weber; what do you think we ought to do?"
"I've been thinking of your friend Lannes. I've an idea that he'll come for you, if he finds an interval in his duties."
"But how could he possibly find me? Why, it's the old needle in the haystack business."
"He couldn't unless we made some sort of signal."
"There's no signal that I can make."
"But there's one that I can. Look, Mr. Scott."
He unbuttoned his long French coat, and took from his breast a roll of red, white and blue. He opened it and disclosed a French flag about four feet long.
"If that were put in a conspicuous place," he said, "an aviator with glasses could see it a long way, and he would come to find out what it meant."
"The top of a tree is the place for it!" exclaimed John. "Now if you only had around here a real tree, or two, in place of what we call saplings in my country, we might do some fine signaling with the flag."
"We'll try it, but I think we should go a considerable distance from the cottage. If Germans instead of French should come then we'd have a better chance of escaping among the hedges and vineyards."
John agreed with him and they quickly made ready, each taking his automatic and knapsack, and leaving the fire to die of itself on the hearth.
"I'm telling that cottage good-bye with regret," said John, as they walked away. "I spent some normal and peaceful hours there last night and it's a neat little place. I hope its owners will be able to come back to it. As soon as I open the stable door, in order that the horse may go where he will, I'll be ready."
He gave the big animal a friendly pat as he left and Marne gazed after him with envious sorrowful eyes.
They walked a full mile, keeping close to the Marne, where the trees and bushes were thickest, and listened meanwhile to the fourth day's swelling roar of the battle. Its long continuance had made it even more depressing and terrifying than in its earlier stages. To John's mind, at least, it took on the form of a cataclysm, of some huge paroxysm of the earth. He ate to it, he slept to it, he woke to it, and now he was walking to it. The illusion was deepened by the fact that no human being save Weber was visible to him. The country between the two monstrous battle lines was silent and deserted.
"Apparently," said Weber, "we're in no danger of human interference as we walk here."
"Not unless a shell coming from a point fifteen miles or so beyond the hills should drop on us, or we should be pierced by an arrow from one of our Frenchmen in the clouds. But so far as I can see there's nothing above us, although I can make out one or two aeroplanes far toward the east."
"The air is heavy and cloudy and that's against them, but they'll be out before long. You'll see. I think, Mr. Scott, that we'll find a good tree in that little grove of beeches there."
"The tall one in the center. Yes, that'll suit us."
They inspected the tree and then made a long circuit about it, finding nobody near. John, full of zeal and enthusiasm, volunteered to climb the tree and fasten the flag to its topmost stem, and Weber, after some claims on his own behalf, agreed. John was a good climber, alert, agile and full of strength, and he went up the trunk like an expert. It was an uncommonly tall tree for France, much more than a sapling, and when he reached the last bough that would support him he found that he could see over all the other trees and some of the low hills. At a little distance ran the Marne, a silver sheet, and he thought he could discern faint puffs of smoke on the hills beyond. No human being was in sight, but although high in the tree he could still feel the vibrations of the air beneath the throb of so many great guns. Several aeroplanes hovered at points far distant, and he knew that others would be on the long battle line.
Reaching as high as he could he tied the flag with a piece of twine that Weber had given him—the Alsation seemed to have provided for everything—and then watched it as it unfolded and fluttered in the light breeze. He felt a certain pride, as he had done his part of the task well. The flag waved above the green leaves and any watcher of the skies could see it.
"How does it show?" he called to Weber.
"Well, indeed. You'd better climb down now. If the Germans come from the air they'll get you there, and if they come on land they'll have you in the tree. You'll be caught between air and earth."
"That being the case I'll come down at once," said John, and he descended the tree rapidly. At Weber's advice they withdrew to a cluster of vines growing near, where they would be well hidden, since their signal was as likely to draw enemies as friends.
"I think Lannes will surely see that flag," said Weber.
"Why do you have such great confidence in his coming?" asked John.
"He inspires confidence, when you see him, and there's his reputation. I've an idea that he'll be carrying dispatches between the two wings of the French army, dispatches of vast importance, since the different French forces have to cooperate now along a line of four or five score miles. Of course the telephone and the telegraph are at work, too, but the value of the aeroplane as a scout and dispatch bearer cannot be over estimated."
"One is coming now," said John, "and I think it has been attracted by our flag. I take it to be German."
"Then we'd better keep very close. Still, there's little chance of our being seen here, and the aviators, even if they suspect a presence, can't afford to descend, leave their planes and search for anybody."
"I agree with you there. One can remain here in comparative safety and watch the results of our signal. That machine is coming fast and I'm quite sure it's German."
"An armored machine with two men and a light rapid fire gun in it. Beyond a doubt it will circle about our tree."
The plane was very near now, and assuredly it was German. John could discern the Teutonic cast of their countenances, as the two men in it leaned over and looked at the flag. They dropped lower and lower and then flew in circles about the tree. John, despite his anxiety and suspense, could not fail to notice the humorous phase of it. The plane certainly could not effect a landing in the boughs, and if it descended to the ground in order that one of their number might get out, climb the tree and capture the flag, they would incur the danger of a sudden swoop from French machines. Besides, the flag would be of no value to them, unless they knew who put it there and why.
"The Germans, of course, see that it's a French flag," he said to Weber. "I wonder what they're going to do."
"I think they'll have to leave it," said Weber, "because I can now see other aeroplanes to the west, aeroplanes which may be French, and they dare not linger too long."
"And our little flag may make a big disturbance in the heavens."
"So it seems."
The German plane made circle after circle around the tree, finally drew off to some distance, and then, as it wavered back and forth, its machine gun began to spit fire. Little boughs and leaves cut from the tree fell to the ground, but the flag, untouched, fluttered defiantly in the light breeze.
"They're trying to shoot it down," said John, "and with such an unsteady gun platform they've missed every time."
"I doubt whether they'll continue firing," said Weber. "An aeroplane doesn't carry any great amount of ammunition and they can't afford to waste much."
"They're through now," said John. "See, they're flying away toward the east, and unless my imagination deceives me, their machine actually looks crestfallen, while our flag is snapping away in the wind, haughty and defiant."
"A vivid fancy yours, Mr. Scott, but it's easy to imagine that German machine looking cheap, because that's just the way the men on board it must feel. Suppose we sit down here and take our ease. No flying man can see through those vines over our heads, and we can watch in safety. We're sure to draw other scouts of the air, while for us it's an interesting and comparatively safe experience."
"Our flag is certainly an attraction," said John, making himself comfortable on the ground. "There's a bird of passage now, coming down from the north as swift as a swallow."
"It's a little monoplane," said Weber, "and it certainly resembles a swallow, as it comes like a flash toward this tree. I thought at first it might be Lannes in the Arrow, but the plane is too small, and it's of German make."
"I fancy it won't linger long. This is not a healthy bit of space for lone fellows in monoplanes."
The little plane slackened its speed, as it approached the tree, and then sailed by it at a moderate rate. When it was opposite the flag a spurt of flame came from the pistol of the man in it, and John actually laughed.
"That was sheer spite," he said. "Did he think he could shoot our flag away with a single bullet from a pistol when a machine gun has just failed? That's right, turn about and make off as fast as you can, you poor little mono!"
The monoplane also curved around the tree, but did not make a series of circles. Instead, when its prow was turned northward it darted off again in that direction, going even more swiftly than it had come, as if the aviator were ashamed of himself and wished to get away as soon as possible from the scene of his disgrace. Away and away it flew, dwindling to a black speck and then to nothing.
John's shoulders shook, and Weber, looking at him, was forced to smile too.
"Well, it was funny," he said. "Our flag is certainly making a stir in the heavens."
"I wonder what will come next," said John. "It's like bait drawing birds of prey."
The heavens were now beautifully clear, a vault of blue velvet, against which anything would show. Far away the cannon groaned and thundered, and the waves of air pulsed heavily, but John noticed neither now. His whole attention was centered upon the flag, and what it might call from the air.
"In such a brilliant atmosphere we can certainly see our visitors from afar," he said.
"So we can," said Weber, "and lo! another appears out of the east!"
The dark speck showed on the horizon and grew fast, coming apparently straight in their direction. John did not believe it h............