One meal would merge into another, making
a beautiful, savory chain linked together. I know the Englishman's
heaven perfectly well. It's made of lakes of ale, beer, porter and
Scotch highballs, surrounded by high banks of cheese, mutton and roast
beef."
"There could be worse heavens," said Carstairs, "and if it should happen
that way it wouldn't be long before you Yankees would be trying to break
out of your heaven and into ours. But here's a taste of it now, the
cheese, for instance, and the beer, although it's in bottles."
A spry Tommy Atkins served them, and John, thankful at heart, ate and
drank with the best of them. And while they ate the pulsing waves of air
from the battle beat upon their ears. It seemed to these young men to
have been beating that way for weeks.
"Lannes will be back soon," said John to Carstairs and Wharton, "and
he'll tear you away from your friends here. You think, Carstairs, that
you're an Englishman, and you're convinced, Wharton, that you're an
American, but you're both wrong. You're Frenchmen, and you're going back
to the French army, where you belong. Then Captain Daniel Colton of the
Strangers will want to know from you why you haven't returned sooner."
"But how are we to go?" said Carstairs.
"And where are we to go?" said Wharton.
"I'd go in a minute," added Carstairs, "if the German army would let
me."
"So would I," said Wharton, "but the Germans fight so hard that we can't
get away.
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