The sounds of
battle were still unheard, but they clearly saw the fire of the cannon,
the rapid-firers, and the rifles. It was like a red streak running in
curves and zigzags across fifty or maybe a hundred miles of country.
"We continue to cut in," said Lannes. "You can see how our armies off
there are marching into that great open space between the Germans.
Unless the extreme German army hastens it will be separated entirely
from the rest. Oh, what a day! What a glorious, magnificent day! A day
unlike any other in the world's story! Our heads in the dust in the
morning and high in the air by night!"
"But we haven't won yet?"
"No, but we are winning enough to know that we will win."
"How many men do you think are engaged in that battle below?"
"Along all its windings two millions, maybe, or at least a million and a
half anyhow. Perhaps nobody will ever know."
Then they relapsed into silence for a little while. The _Arrow_ flew
fast and the motor drummed steadily in their ears. Lannes let the
aeroplane sink a little lower, and John became conscious of a new sound,
akin nevertheless to the throb of the motor. It was the concussion of
the battle. The topmost and weakest waves of air hurled off in circles
by countless cannon and rifles were reaching them. But they had been
softened so much by distance that the sound was not unpleasant, and the
_Arrow_ rocked gently as if touched by a light wind.
John never ceased to watch with his glasses, and in a few minutes he
announced that men in gray were below.
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