Reddy having resumed his share of the burden of precious stones and
gold pieces, the three boys were given, in turn, the glad hand and a
stout pull out of the pit. The sergeant tried his best to maintain
a severe manner, but the effort proved a rank failure. The delight
of the big trooper over the finding and assured safety of his young
charges would not down. Even the natural and cultivated reserve of the
Englishman was not proof against the affectionate regard he felt for
the boys he had both fathered and mothered for these many days.
As the rescue party marched on either side of the sergeant, striving to
match his long step, walked Billy and Henri, with Reddy close in the
rear.
“You got me in a pretty mess with the colonel, you little rascals.”
“Well, we just had to do it, Sergeant,” answered Henri. “It’s what we
came for, and you can’t blame us for not throwing away our last chance
to win out. It was for sure our last chance, for Château Trouville is
no more.”
There was a note of sadness in the last sentence. It was of great
sorrow to Henri that this beautiful home place had been reduced to a
smoking ruin, with its priceless works of art and all those heirlooms
so dear to the hearts of the race of Trouville.
All that remained of the family fortune had been saved by Henri and his
faithful boy friends at the risk of their lives.
Saved? Many a league to travel, before the treasure reached its fixed
destination, many a slip to be avoided, many a sharp corner to be
bravely turned.
“We thank you with all our hearts, sir.”
The boys were greeting Colonel Bainbridge, and each was favored by that
officer with a warm handshake.
“Away with you now,” ordered the colonel. “Get food and rest. To-morrow
I have new plans for you. Leave your knapsacks in yonder tent, over
which a guard will be mounted.”
The boys thought that no place had ever appeared so attractive as the
field kitchen, with its soup boiler and its oven on wheels. And the
cooks were more than kind. It was well known that the colonel had
favored attention to his young friends.
Relieved of hunger and thirst the boys hunted up their old friend, the
teamster, and he provided them with blankets and a comfortable nest
under cover of a supply wagon.
The next morning the boys expected an after-breakfast summons from the
colonel, but there was no call for them from headquarters. Fierce
fighting was going on in the valley town of St. Mihiel, on the right
bank of the Meuse, and, in viewing the conflict from the hillside
point, the boys were thrilled by a moving picture that would have
commanded a fortune in the films.
The town on which the war plague had fallen is on the site of the
ancient Abbey of St. Mihiel, and the tide of this day’s battle surged
about the noted Church of St. Mihiel, containing that fine statue of
the Madonna, by the great artist, Richier, and also the choir stalls
world-famed for their beauty.
Henri and Reddy took it as a personal grievance that these things
should be threatened with destruction.
“I’ll just tell you what,” suddenly declared Billy, breaking a long
silence on his part, “I’d like to be the aviator who makes the first
flight across the Atlantic, and especially if I could start to-day from
this side!”
“And leave me, Billy?”
Henri had applied the tonic that Billy needed.
“Not this day, or ever, Buddy. It was only this war business that set
me dreaming of better days. On to Paris, old chum, you and I!”
Billy was himself again.
Turning back to camp, the boys were informed that the colonel had given
the word that they were to report to him as soon as they could be
found.
“Something’s up,” predicted Billy, as they hurried to headquarters.
The colonel, when they arrived, was busy poring over an outspread map,
and occasionally conferring with other officers grouped about him.
It was some time before the boys received attention, for evidently some
issue of considerable moment was under discussion.
When the colonel finally expressed himself satisfied with the program
outlined, he turned to his young friends and remarked:
“I presume that you will not object to my making a change of base,
and,” smiling, “I hope you will not deny me the honor of your company
in the movement.”
“Always at your command, colonel,” gallantly responded Henri.
“Then,” concluded the colonel, “you will be advised shortly of the hour
of marching.”
“What’s to become of me?”
This was the anxious question that Reddy addressed to Henri as they
left headquarters.
“You don’t suppose that we’re going to lose you this side of Paris, do
you?” was Henri’s prompt counter question.
“Paris!” joyfully echoed the boy. “Me? Let’s hurry!”
Billy guessed that Reddy was glad.
“I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on the way,” hummed the boy
from Bangor, as they hastened to tell the teamster the good news.
An hour later the sergeant came down to the wagon. As usual, he spoke
to the point:
“Get your bundles, boys!”