his smallness. He seemed to be a mass of highly wrought steel spring.
But unwilling to be beaten by anybody, John raced with him and the two
stood at the same time upon the utmost crest of the Basilique du
Sacré-Coeur.

They paused a few moments for fresh breath and then John put the glasses
to his eye, sweeping them in a slow curve. Through the powerful lenses
he saw the vast circle of Paris, and all the long story of the past that
it called up. Two thousand years of history rolled beneath his feet, and
the spectacle was wholly magnificent.

He beheld the great green valley with its hills, green, too, the line of
the Seine cutting the city apart like the flash of a sword blade, the
golden dome of the Hotel des Invalides, the grinning gargoyles of Notre
Dame, the arches and statues and fountains and the long green ribbons
that marked the boulevards.

Although the city stood wholly in the sunlight a light haze formed on
the rim of the circling horizon. He now moved the glasses slowly over a
segment there and sought diligently for something. From so high a point
and with such strong aid one could see many miles. He was sure that he
would find what he sought and yet did not wish to see. Presently he
picked out intermittent flashes which he believed were made by sunlight
falling on steel. Then he drew a long and deep breath that was almost
like a sigh.

"What is it?" asked Bougainville who had stood patiently by his side.

"I fear it is the glitter of lances, my friend, lances carried by German
Uhlans. Will you look?"