Читать книгу Our Young Aeroplane Scouts in France and Belgium. Or, Saving the Fortunes of the Trouvilles онлайн

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“Right here, Billy,” said Henri, indicating with pencil point, “is where we would be to-night if I could borrow the wings of a gull.”

Billy, leaning over the map, remarked that a crow’s wings would suit him better, adding:

“For we would certainly have to do some tall dodging in that part of the country just now.”

“Do you know,” questioned Henri earnestly, “that I haven’t told you yet of the big driving reason for this dangerous journey?”

“Well,” admitted Billy, “you didn’t exactly furnish a diagram, but that didn’t make much difference. The main point to me was that you tried to say good-by to your twin.”

“Billy,” continued Henri, drawing closer, and in voice only reaching the ear at his lips, “behind a panel in the Château Trouville are gold and jewels to the value of over a million francs. It is all that remains of a once far greater fortune. My mother, when all hope of turning back the invading armies had gone, fled to Paris in such haste that she took with her little more of worth than the rings on her hands. She may be in want even now—and she never wanted before in her life. I am her free man—my brothers are in the trenches with the Allies somewhere, I don’t know where. It’s up to me to save her fortune and pour it into her lap.”