Wave to that fellow that we're friends."
An English aeroplane was now very near them and John, leaning over, made
gestures of amity. Although the aviator's head was almost completely
enshrouded in a hood, he discerned a typically British face.
"Kings of the air, with dispatches for your general!" John cried. He
knew that the man would not hear him, but he was so exultant that he
wanted to say something, to shout to him, or in the slang of his own
land, to let off steam.
But while the English aviator could not understand the words the
gestures were clear to him, and he waved a hand in friendly fashion.
Then, wheeling in a fine circle, he came back by their side as an
escort.
The _Arrow_, like a bird, folding its wings, sank gracefully into the
meadow, and Lannes, hastily jumping out, asked John to look after the
aeroplane. Then he rushed toward a group of officers, among whom he
recognized the chief of the army.
John himself disembarked stiffly, and stretched his limbs, while several
young Englishmen looked at him curiously. He had learned long since how
to deal with Englishmen, that is to take no notice of them until they
made their presence known, and then to acquiesce slowly and reluctantly
in their existence. So, he took short steps back and forth on the grass,
flexing and tensing his muscles, as abstractedly as if he were alone on
a desert island.
"I say," said a handsome fair young man at last, "would you mind telling
us, old chap, where you come from?"
John continued to stretch his muscles and took several long and deep
breaths.
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