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The Hosts of the Air by Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander) Altsheler
page 19 of 321 (05%)
"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.

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