John's interest in what followed was, in a measure, scientific. He realized afterward that he should have been terribly frightened. In fact, he felt more fear later on, but at that moment the emotions that produce fear were atrophied. The extraordinary nature of his situation caused instead wonder and keen antic.i.p.ation.

The _Arrow_ shot to the right and then to the left. It dipped, and it rose, and then it darted on a level line toward the south.

John wondered afterwards that the delicate fabric was not torn to pieces, but Lannes was not a supreme flying man for nothing. Every movement was part of a plan, executed with skill and precision. Once more his hand played upon the rudder, as the fingers of a great pianist play upon the keys.

"Is the fellow directly above us yet, John?" he asked.

"Not at this moment, but I think he must have been several times. He has dropped at least three more bombs."

"Then his supply is probably getting small, and he'll be extremely careful with what's left. It's no easy task, John, to drop a bomb from a height, and hit a small target, moving as swiftly as the _Arrow_. Let him alone for the present, and look out for the fellow below. See what he is doing."

John looked down quickly. He had almost forgotten the existence of the second Taube, and he was surprised to find it beneath them and close at hand. The dark, hooded face of the man in the seat looked up at them. As well as John could judge he was using the superior speed of his Taube to keep up with the _Arrow_, and, at the same time, to rise slowly until they approached the point of contact. His apprehensions were quickly transferred from the upper to the lower Taube.

"The second machine is under us and rising," he said.

"And the second attack is likely to come from that point. Well, he can't drop bombs on us. That's sure, and we can meet him on his own ground or rather in his air. John, did you ever shoot at a man?"

"Never!"

"You're going to do it very soon. The automatic I gave you is a powerful weapon, and when the fellow rises enough you must shoot over the side at him. Take good aim and have no compunction, because he'll be shooting at us. But you've the advantage. You're free, while he has to steer his Taube and fire at the same time."

John drew the big automatic. He felt a shiver of reluctance, but only one. He and Lannes were in desperate case, and he would be fighting for the lives of both.

Clutching the powerful weapon in a firm hand he looked down again. The Taube had come much nearer, and he heard suddenly a crack sharp and clear in the thin air of the heights. A bullet sang by his ear. The man in the lower machine had a pistol or perhaps a rifle--John had not seen him raise any weapon.

Lannes glanced at John, whose face had hardened, but he said nothing.

John pulled the trigger of the big automatic, and he saw the Taube waver for a moment, and then come on as steadily as ever.

"I don't think I hit him," he said, "but I believe the bullet flattened on his machine."

"You're getting close. Give him another. There went his second. I felt its wind past my face."

John pulled the trigger again, but marksmanship at such an immense height, between two small machines, flying at great speed was almost impossible. Bullet after bullet flew, but n.o.body was. .h.i.t, although several bullets struck upon the _Arrow_ and the Taube, doing no serious harm, however.

"I'm doing my best," said John.

"I know it," said Lannes. "I notice that your hand is steady. You'll get him."

John looked down, seeking aim for his fifth bullet, when he suddenly heard an appalling crash, and the Taube, a flying ma.s.s of splinters, disappeared in a flash from view. It had happened so quickly that he was stunned. The machine had been and then it was not. He looked at Lannes.

"The fellow above us dropped another bomb," said Lannes in a voice that shook a little. "It missed us and hit his comrade, who was almost beneath."

"What a death!" said John, aghast for a little while. Then he pulled himself together and looked up at the other Taube. It was hovering almost over them like a sinister shadow. As John looked something flashed from it, and a heavy bullet sang past.

"He has a rifle! Give him what's left in the automatic!" shouted Lannes.

John fired and he knew that his bullet had struck one of the exposed arms, because a moment later a drop of blood fell almost on his face.

"You've winged him," said Lannes. "Look how the Taube wobbles! You must have given him a bad wound in the arm. He'll have all he can do now to save himself. Good-bye to the pursuit. Luck and your skill, John, have saved us."

John, feeling faint, leaned against the seat.

"I think I'm air-sick," he said.

"It'll pa.s.s soon, but you're tremendously lucky. It's not often a fellow gets into a battle in the air the first time he goes up. See what's become of the Taube."

"It's descending fast. I can see the man struggling with it. I hope he'll reach the ground all right."

"He did his best to kill us both."

"I know, but I hope he'll get down, anyway."

"He will. He's regained control of his machine, but he can use only one arm. The other hangs limp. And now for a glorious flight in this brave little _Arrow_ of ours."

"Will you return to our original course?"

"I think we'd better not. The German flying men are out, and we might have another fight, from which we would not emerge as well as we have from this. No one must ever underestimate the Germans. They're organized to the last detail in every department. I, a Frenchman, willingly say this. I'll make our flight more southerly. We'll come down in Switzerland. I'd like to go on to France, but we must make a descent soon. We're both cold and overstrained, and it won't be a real violation of neutrality just to touch Switzerland once."

The _Arrow_ now sank to a much lower level, and that planet, which they had left came again into view. It was not much more than a dark shadow, save for the sheen of high mountains in the south, but John was glad to see it again. It was like the return of an old friend. It was the fine Earth, not one of the great planets, but the only planet he knew.

He felt a great weakness, but they had descended so much that the intense cold was going away. The thicker and warmer air lulled him, and he sank into a sort of stupor from which he soon roused himself with anger. He considered it a disgrace to him that he should sleep, while Lannes still picked their way through the currents, and pockets and flaws of the heavens.

"You might sleep if you feel like it," said Lannes. "You did all the fighting, and I ought to do all the flying, especially as it's my business and I've had lots of experience. Go ahead, old man. It'll be all the better for us if you get back your strength."

Under Lannes' urging John leaned back a little more in his seat, and closed his eyes. It was true that he was horribly tired, and his will seemed to have weakened, too. Flying was new to him, and now the collapse after so much tension and excitement had come. In a few minutes he slept, but the _Arrow_ sailed swiftly on, mile after mile.

John's sleep was sound, but not long. When he awoke it was still night, although the dark bore a suspicious tint of silver in the east. The physical and mental weakness had departed, but he was singularly cold and stiff. When he sought to move, something firm and unyielding about his waist restrained him.

His eyes opened slowly and he looked around. On three sides s.p.a.ce met his vision, just dusky blue sky with floating banks and wisps of vapor.

But far off to the south, rising like mighty battlements, he saw a dim line of mountains clad in snow. Then it all came back to him. He was aloft in the _Arrow_, the first time that he had ever awakened in the void between the stars and his own planet.

There was Lannes at the rudder, looking a little bent and shrunken now, but his hand was as delicate and true as ever. The machine hummed softly and steadily in his ears, like the string of a violin.

"Philip!" he cried in strong self-reproach, "show me how, and I'll sail the _Arrow_ for a while and you can rest."

Lannes shook his head and smiled.

"You're an apt student," he said, "but you couldn't learn enough in one lesson, at least not for our purpose. Besides, I'll have plenty of rest soon. We're going to land in an hour. Behold your first sunrise, seen from a point a mile above the earth!"

He swept his free hand toward the east, where the suspicion of silver had become a certainty. In the infinity of s.p.a.ce a mile was nothing, but all the changes were swift and amazingly vivid to John. The silver deepened, turned to blue, and then orange, gold and red sprang out, terrace after terrace, intense and glowing.

Then the sun came up, so burning bright that John was forced to turn his eyes away.

"Fine, isn't it?" said Lannes appreciatively. "It's good to see the sunrise from a new point, and we're up pretty high now, John. We must be, as I said, nearly a mile above the earth."

"Why do we keep so high?"

"Partly to escape observation, and partly because we're making for a cleft in the mountain straight ahead of us, and about on our own level.