John stood at the other
window and saw the great blur of the capital. All sounds were fused into
one steady murmur, rather soothing, like the flowing of a river.
He seemed to hear presently the distant thunder of German guns, but
reason told him it was only a trick of the imagination. Nerves keyed
high often created the illusion of reality.
"What are you thinking about, Lannes?" he asked.
"Of my mother and sister. Only the French know the French. The family
tie is powerful with us."
"I know that, Phil."
"So you do. You're an adopted child of France. Madame Lannes is a woman
of great heart, John. I am proud to be her son. I have read of your
civil war. I have read how the mothers of your young soldiers suffered
and yet were brave. None can know how much Madame, my mother, has
suffered tonight, with the Germans at the gates of Paris, and yet she
has shown no sign of it."
John was silent. He did not know what to say, but Lannes did not pursue
the subject, remaining a full five minutes at the window, and not
speaking again, until he turned away.
"John," he said then, "let's go outside and take a look about the
quarter. It's important now to watch for everything."
John was full willing. He recognized the truth of Lannes' words and he
wanted air and exercise also. A fortress was a fortress, whether one
called it a home or not, Lannes led the way and they descended to the
lower hall, where the gigantic porter was on watch.
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