The Hosts of the Air | Page 6

two should soon meet

once more. If so, tell him that his sister is at Chastel. He will be glad to
know of her arrival and, work permitting, will hurry to her there."
"Gladly I'll do it," said John. "I wish I could see Philip now."
But when he said "Philip" he was thinking of Julie, although the bond
of friendship between him and young Lannes had not diminished one
whit.
"And now," said Weber, "with Captain Colton's permission I'll go. My
duties take me southward, and night is coming fast."
"And it will be dark, cold and snowy," said John, shivering a little.
"These trenches are not exactly palace halls, but I'd rather be in them
now than out there on such a night."
The dusk had come and the French fire was dying. In a few more
minutes it would cease entirely, and then the French hour with the guns
having matched the German hour, the night would be without battle.
But the silence that succeeded the thunder of the guns was somber. In
all that terrible winter John had not seen a more forbidding night. The
snow increased and with it came a strong wind that reached them
despite their shelter. The muddy trenches began to freeze lightly, but
the men's feet broke through the film of ice and they walked in an
awful slush. It seemed impossible that the earth could ever have been
green and warm and sunny, and that Death was not always sitting at
one's elbow.
The darkness was heavy, but nevertheless as they talked they did not
dare to raise their heads above the trenches. The German searchlights
might blaze upon them at any moment, showing the mark for the
sharpshooters. But Captain Colton pressed his electric torch and the
three in the earthy alcove saw one another well.
"Will you go to Chastel yourself?" asked John of Weber.
"Not at present. I bear a message which takes me in the Forest of

Argonne, but I shall return along this line in a day or two, and it may be
that I can reach the village. If so, I shall tell Mademoiselle Julie and the
Picards that I have seen you here, and perhaps I can communicate also
with Lannes."
"I thank you for your kindness in coming to tell me this."
"It was no more than I should have done. I knew you would be glad to
hear, and now, with your permission, Captain Colton, I'll go."
"Take narrow, transverse trench, leading south. Good of you to see us,"
said the captain of the Strangers.
The Alsatian shook hands with John and disappeared in the cut which
led a long distance from the front. Colton extinguished the torch and
the two sat a little while in the darkness. Although vast armies faced
one another along a front of four hundred miles, little could be heard
where John and his captain sat, save the sighing of the wind and the
faint sound made by the steady fall of the snow, which was heaping up
at their feet.
Not a light shone in the trench. John knew that innumerable sentinels
were on guard, striving to see and hear, but a million or two million
men lay buried alive there, while the snow drifted down continually.
The illusion that the days of primeval man had come back was strong
upon him again. They had become, in effect, cave-dwellers once more,
and their chief object was to kill. He listened to the light swish of the
snow, and thought of the blue heights into which he had often soared
with Lannes.
Captain Colton lighted another cigarette and it glowed in the dark.
"Uncanny," he said.
"I find it more so than usual tonight," said John. "Maybe it's the visit of
Weber that makes me feel that way, recalling to me that I was once a
man, a civilized human being who bathed regularly and who put on
clean clothes at frequent intervals."

"Such days may come again--for some of us."
"So they may. But it's ghastly here, holed up like animals for the
winter."
"Comparison not fair to animals. They choose snug dens. Warm leaves
and brush all about 'em."
"While we lie or stand in mud or snow. After all, Captain, the animals
have more sense in some ways than we. They kill one another only for
food, while we kill because of hate or ignorance."
"Mostly ignorance."
"I suppose so. Hear that! It's a pleasant sound."
"So it is. Makes me think of home."
Some one further down the trench was playing a mouth organ. It was
merely a thin stream of sound, but it had a soft seductive note. The tune
was American, a popular air. It was glorified so far away and in such