I wish you'd keep
those glasses to your eyes all the time, John, and watch the skies. Let
me know at once, if you see anything suspicious."
John, continually turning in his seat, swept the whole curve of the
world with the powerful glasses. Paris was now far below, a blur of
white and gray. Above, the heavens were of the silkiest blue, beautiful
in their infinite depths, with tiny clouds floating here and there like
whitecaps on an ocean.
"What do you see now, John?"
"Nothing but one of the most beautiful days that ever was. It's a fine
sun, that you've got over here, Philip. I can see through these glasses
that it's made out of pure reddish gold."
"Never mind about that sun, John. America is a full partner in its
ownership and you're used to it. I've heard that you have more sunshine
than we do. Watch for our companions of the air, friend or foe."
"I see them flying; over Paris, but none is going in our direction. How
far is our port of entry, Lannes?"
"We should be there in two hours, if nothing happens. Do we still have
the course to ourselves or is anything coming our way now?"
"No company at all, unless you'd call a machine about three miles off
and much lower down, a comrade."
"What does it look like?"
"A French aeroplane, much resembling the _Arrow_."
"Is it following us?"
"Not exactly. Yes, it is coming our way now, although it keeps much
lower! A scout, I dare say."
Lannes was silent for a little while, his eyes fixed on his pathway
through the blue.
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