After the delay he turned to the fair young man and said:
"Beg pardon, but did you speak to me?"
The Englishman flushed a little and pulled at his yellow mustache. An
older man said:
"Don't press His Highness, Lord James. Don't you see that he's an
American and therefore privileged?"
"I'm privileged," said John, "because I was with you fellows from
Belgium to Paris, and since then I've been away saving you from the
Germans."
Lord James laughed. He had a fine face and all embarrassment disappeared
from it.
"We want to be friends," he said. "Shake hands."
John shook. He also shook the hand of the older man and several others.
Then he explained who he was, and told who had come with him, none less
than the famous young French aviator, Philip Lannes.
"Lannes," said Mr. Yellow Mustache, who, John soon learned, was Lord
James Ivor. "Why, we've all heard of him. He's come to the chief with
messages a half-dozen times since this battle began, and I judge from
the way he rushed to him just now that he has another, that can't be
delayed."
"I think so, too," said John, "although I don't know anything about it
myself. He's a close-mouthed fellow. But do any of you happen to have
heard of an Englishman, Carstairs, and an American, Wharton, who belong
to a company called the Strangers in the French army, but who must be at
present with you--that is, if they're alive?"
John's voice dropped a little, as he added the last words, but Lord
James Ivor walked to the brow of a low hill, called to somebody beyond,
and then walked back.
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