the treasure house was a gloomy den of a place, one small, heavily grated window, with dusty diamond-shaped panes, set high and deeply in the wall, like a porthole, being the only means of producing light from the outside, and even that outside a dark little court enclosed by frowning walls.
in possession of the safety lanterns, the boys could be considered lucky, not only to enable them to quickly complete the task before them, but the three fire-balls helped wonderfully in relieving the impression of being locked up in a tomb.
in a far corner of this dungeon was an iron-bound, oaken box of considerable size, fastened by a heavy padlock. the discovery of the lock presented the first difficulty not described in the paper which francois had given henri.
billy rattled the lock by a vicious jab with the heel of his shoe, but the effect on link and staple availed about as much as a feather in a gale. nothing short of dynamite, or the right key, could pass that massive guard.
“did you think of this?” billy’s query deserved top line in the useless question column.
[101]
“if i had do you suppose i would be standing here like a hungry man before a baker’s window?”
henri was completely bowled over, as the saying is, by this hitch in his plans, at the eleventh hour.
reddy had just completed an unsuccessful assault on the obstinate padlock when henri astonished his friends by doing some tango steps, setting a lively tune by snapping his fingers.
“got it, now!” he exclaimed between shuffles. “keep on your coats, fellows, i’ll be back in no time.”
with that the son of the trouvilles jumped for the cross-piece in the movable wall section, drew himself up with the agility of a monkey and with equal celerity landed in the passage on the other side of the wall.
the minutes ticked away in billy’s watch—ten—fifteen—twenty.
no sign of henri.
“i can’t stand this much longer,” muttered billy, never taking his eyes from the hole in the wall through which henri had disappeared.
reddy tried to tell billy in french that he would go and hunt for henri if he (billy) would not mind.
billy did mind. he understood reddy’s gestures if he did not fully comprehend the language.
[102]
“when anybody goes it will be a procession, with me in the lead.”
he had hardly got this positive assertion out of his mouth when he heard something scraping in the passage, followed by the living picture of henri framed in the opening above. then the familiar voice:
“it’s all right, buddy.”
“just when i was thinking it was all wrong.”
billy lifted his hands to ease henri’s drop from the cross-piece, and gave him a bear hug when he landed.
henri rapidly gave the reasons for his delay in getting back.
“you see, a flash of memory brought to my mind that mother kept the keys to about everything hanging behind a portrait of father in her bedroom. i had to go on the other side of the panel to get there—it’s in the new part of the house, you know.
“i did not see anybody about when i went through the fireplace into the dining-hall. you can wager, though, that i did not lose any time in dodging through the door to the corridor that would take me quickest to the place for which i was bound.
“i got there, all right; found the keys”—holding up the jingling bunch dangling from a wire hoop—“and was making my grand get-away on the return trip. as a matter of caution i peeped through[103] the door of the dining-hall before i opened it very far. lo and behold our friend from whom reddy pilfered the flagon had seated himself at a table facing the door, through the crack of which i was straining my eyes.
“this fellow had a bottle of wine at his elbow, and a glass in his hand. he had settled for a good time, and i had settled for an uneasy one.
“directly he arose and walked slowly toward the fireplace and curiously inspected it. still wondering about that missing flagon, i guess. then he continued his stroll to the window at the far end of the hall.
“‘this is the chance for me,’ i thought, and i bolted for the panel. what if it stuck or wouldn’t work? believe me, it was a scary moment. click, and i was through. i don’t know whether ‘red trousers’ saw me or just heard the click of the panel spring. at any rate, i stopped to listen a moment, and i heard him tapping here and there on the oak around the fireplace. that fellow is sure a suspicious customer.
“well, here i am, and don’t let us waste any more time with this talkfest. turn your lantern on the padlock, reddy.”
henri knelt before the treasure box, holding the jingling bunch of keys between his eyes and the blaze of reddy’s lantern.
[104]
“that looks like it would fit,” selecting a short key of heavy turn.
“but it don’t.”
henri made another selection, with no better success.
“try that one,” reddy pointing to a rusty instrument in the bunch.
reddy had hit the nail on the head.
that key turned, and the padlock tumbled into henri’s hand.
then he lifted the lid of the treasure chest!
