SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 329 | Next

Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hosts of the Air"


The velvet blue of the sky faded into the dark hour and then the dawn
came, edged with silver, turning to pink and then to gold, like a robe
of many colors, drawn slowly out of the infinite. Suzanne suddenly
uttered a great cry.
"Look up! Look up, my children!" she cried.
Coming out of the west which was yet in dusk was a black dot and then
three others--behind it in Indian file.
"We're saved," cried Suzanne. "It's Monsieur Philip and his friends'"
"How do you know? You can't see yet," said John, almost afraid to hope.
"I don't need to see it! I feel it, and I know!" replied Suzanne. "Look,
how they come!"
John trembled and the hand of Julie in his own trembled too, but it was
not fear, it was the feeling that a miracle, a miracle to save them, was
coming to pass.
The four black dots moved on out of the west and John knew that they
were aeroplanes coming swiftly and directly toward their mountain. The
dawn reaching the zenith spread also to the west and the flying machines
were outlined clearly in the luminous golden haze. Then John, too,
uttered a great cry.
He knew the slender sinuous shape that led. As far as eye could reach he
would recognize the _Arrow_. The miracle was done. They had called to
Philip in their desperate need and he had come.
"Philip and the _Arrow_!" he exclaimed.


Pages:
317 318 319 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 339 340 341