a novice were subject at any time to a jerk. They might be assailed by
another treacherous machine, the dangers, in truth, were uncountable,
but he was upborne by a tremendous desire to carry the word and to save
Lannes and himself.

In the face of intense resolve all obstacles became as nothing and his
hand steadied on the rudder. He knew that when it came to the air he was
no Lannes and never could be. The solid earth, no matter how much it
rolled around the sun or around itself, was his favorite field of
action, but he felt that he must make one flight, when he carried with
him perhaps the fate of a nation.

The _Arrow_ was still rocking from side to side and dipping and jumping.
Slowly he steadied it, handling the rudder as if it were a loaded
weapon, and gradually his heart began to pound with triumph. It was no
such flying as the hand of Lannes drew from the _Arrow_, but to John it
seemed splendid for a first trial. He let the machine drop a little
until it was only six or seven hundred yards above the earth, and took
wary glances from side to side. He feared another pursuer, but the air
seemed clear.

Lannes had sunk a little further forward. John saw that the
bleeding from his head had ceased. There was a dark stain down either
cheek, but it was drying there, and as Lannes had foreseen, his hair and
the cap had acted as a bandage, at last checking the flow effectively.
His breathing was heavy and jerky, but John believed that he would
revive before long. It was not possible that one so vital as Lannes, so
eager for great action, could die thus.

Now he looked ahead. Their landmarks as Lannes had told him before the