along the outworks of paris our aviator boys had the delight of hearing of the war exploits of some of the greatest airmen of their time, paulhan, the hero of the english tour from london to manchester; brindejonc des moulinais, garros, vedrines, and last, but not least, the very gilbert lefane, whom they had followed through the air from havre to the capital.
while it had been said that french a?roplanes had never been seen above the french lines, though many machines of the opposing power were constantly reconnoitering over the heads of the french soldiers, it was well known within the circle that this aviation corps had been operating not only on the german lines, but considerably to the rear of them, and many and brilliant were the achievements of intimate record.
within the first few hours after their arrival in paris—not the laughter-loving city of yesterday, but the militant paris of to-day—the boys had a glimpse of the military dictator, the commanding figure of the hour, general joffre, on whom all france relies—a man of medium height, stout, with a massive head, thick drooping mustache,[175] and heavy eyebrows nearly concealing his eyes.
as gilbert remarked, “he had an easy-going manner until he sets his jaws. by the way,” he added, “how would you like to show him what the new machines can do?”
to perform before general joffre! our aviator boys fairly gasped at the idea. so closely had they been allied with military doings, and so easily does the war spirit expand by such association, that a great field commander was just about the very top of the list with them. legions gave devotion to general joffre and general sir john french.
from the first line of fortifications, over the enceinte (works forming the main inclosure), to the detached forts still beyond, there was a splendid natural theater for the a?rial exhibit, 430 square miles thus enclosed, with an encircling line of 77 miles.
“these machines are certainly the very ‘last word’ in a?roplane construction,” observed henri, when gilbert, billy and himself moved about the hangars engaged in the “tuning up” process.
“something like the machine in which young bainbridge took his last ride,” recalled billy.
in all their lives the boys could never forget that sad incident.
to demonstrate the passenger-carrying capacity[176] of the new aircraft, gilbert was accompanied in the leading flight by a comrade airman, while henri took reddy, and billy chummed with jimmy.
the graceful evolutions, and, particularly, the lightning speed shown by the up-to-date machines, excited admiration and wonder. practically the entire length of the encircling line was traversed in an hour—that is, 77 miles an hour!
jimmy and reddy had never before traveled like a ball from a cannon, and even for the practiced aviators it was a little more than their limit.
“the general can’t say that there was anything slow about this,” asserted billy, when he climbed down from the wheel-seat at the close of the thrilling performance.
“it was good work.”
gilbert was a man of few words, and he always meant what he said.
he showed that when he said to henri and billy, in his earnest way:
“the flying corps would count it a big day if your services could be secured for regular duty.”
“but we are not ready to settle down yet,” was billy’s plea. he did not want to tie himself to any foreign job.
“it is a temptation,” admitted henri, “yet i must decide with billy. it’s a partnership that won’t break.”
“and which reminds me,” he went on, “that we[177] have a pressing duty elsewhere, and now that we have given this day to show our gratitude to the kind gilbert, it is very necessary that we hurry on.”
“all the obligation owing is mine,” stoutly maintained gilbert; “you have a thousand times paid for your ride to paris. can i do any more now to get a nearer balance?”
“only give us some directions that we want, and for possible need, something in writing, to ward off suspicious soldiers or gendarmes.”
gilbert provided both, and would also have sent a trooper or two with them had not henri protested against it.
he felt that having set out on a secret mission, he was going to play the game that way.
it chanced that they must pass through one of the older parts of the city to reach the destination fixed by the address on the packet. it also happened, in this time of war, that of vehicles for hire there were very few running in the central part of the city—and there were none at all to be seen in these outskirts and wilderness of narrow, irregular streets.
henri had not figured on such a condition as no means of public conveyance, for it had not yet been fully impressed upon him that this was not the same paris he had known in the past. it was now a city fearful; not a city wonderful.
getting lost in this part of paris, and when[178] the apache bandits and ghouls of the night found less restraint and greater need, was no merry jest. henri began to vainly wish that he had accepted gilbert’s offer of an escort. billy and himself had encountered so many big things in the way of danger and peril in the last few months, so many close calls on land and sea, above and below, that this adventure at first seemed of little moment.
yet the sinister, lurking menace of these silent, shadowy highways and byways in this beleaguered city was heightened by its very contrast with the scenes of turmoil in which the boys had participated, and where death stalked them with open hand.
“i’m stumped if i know just where gilbert told me to make the turn that would set us straight for the rue de rivoli. here’s night come upon us, and the high lights all out for fear of the zeppelins, so you really can’t tell whether you are going or coming. never thought for a moment but what we could hail a cab before this.”
“what’s the matter, then, with turning back, henri?” questioned jimmy.
“nothing the matter with ‘turning,’” replied henri, “but where is ‘back’?”
jimmy did not know, so he had nothing more to say on the subject.
the four at the moment were passing a seemingly endless row of tumble-down tenements. the[179] street was cobbled, or had been many years ago, and of sidewalks there was hardly a trace. at a far-away crossing ahead, an imitation of a lamp-post held up the kind of light one might expect from the fag-end of a candle. behind, the darkness hung like a curtain.
“what a hold-up we would make,” muttered billy, as he tightened a belt worth something like a quarter of a million francs.
