"A miracle? _Pas du tout!_ Nothing but an application of perfectly natural laws. And so--well, now let us come back to the matter under discussion. You have come hither to arrest me, _monsieur_. What do you think of arresting me, now? I am going to leave that to your own judgment." His voice approached the desk. The chair moved slightly, and gave under his weight. Something touched the button on the desk. Something pressed the iridescent metal disk. The humming note sank, faded, died away. Gradually a faint haze gathered in the chair. Dim, brownish fog congealed there. The chair became clouded with it; and behind that chair objects grew troubled, turbid, vague. The ace felt inhibitions leaving him. His eyes began to blink; his half-opened mouth closed with a snap; a long, choking groan escaped his lips. "_Nom de Dieu_" he gulped, and fell weakly to rubbing his arms and legs that still prickled with a numb tingling. "_Mais, nom de Dieu!_" The Master, now swiftly becoming visible, stood up again, smiled, advanced toward his guest--or prisoner, if you prefer. A moment he stood there, till every detail had grown as clear as before this astounding demonstration of his powers. Then he stretched forth his hand. "Leclair," said he, in a voice of deep feeling, "I know and appreciate you for a man of parts, of high courage and devotion to duty in the face of almost certain death. The manner in which you came ahead, even after all your companions had fallen--in which you boarded us, with the strong probability of death confronting you, proves you the kind of man who wins and keeps respect among fighting men. "If you still desire my arrest and the delivery to you of this air-liner, I am at your complete disposal. You have only to sign the receipt I have already written. If--" and for a moment the Master paused, while his dark eyes sought and held the other's, "if, _monsieur_, you desire to become one of the Flying Legion, and to take part in the greatest adventure ever conceived by the mind of man, in the name of all the Legion I welcome you to comradeship!" "_Dieu_!" choked the lieutenant, gripping the Master's hand. "You mean that I--I--" "Yes, that you can be one of us." "Can that be true?" "It is!" The Master's right hand closed firmly on Leclair's. The Master's other hand went out and gripped him by the shoulder. To his feet sprang the Frenchman. Though still shaken and trembling, he drew himself erect. His right hand loosened itself from the Master's; it went to his aviator's helmet in a sharp salute. "_J'y suis! J'y reste!_" cried he. "_Mon capitaine!_" The day passed uneventfully, at high altitudes, steadily rushing into the eye of the East. In the stillness and solitude of the upper air-lanes, _Nissr_ roared onward, invincibly, with sun and sky above, with shining clouds piled below in swiftly retreating masses that spun away to westward.