IN THE TOWER
Just two days later Don, Dunstan and Chase journeyed to the ruined and deserted village, in the hope of finding the "mysterious poilu," as they called him, at the Cheval Noir. Their quest, however, proved unsuccessful, the only sign of life they saw being the cat, which, from a considerable distance, eyed them with evident suspicion.
"It's too bad," grumbled Chase. "I certainly would have given a lot to see him."
"Well, if he isn't here he must be somewhere else," remarked Don, philosophically; "and that somewhere else could very well be the Château de Morancourt—so, suppose we pay the old place another visit."
"By all means!" laughed Dunstan.
"I, too, am heartily in favor of it," declared Chase.
It was still quite early, the heat of the day had not yet begun to be felt and a pleasant, refreshing breeze swept across the country.
They felt no inclination to linger in the once delightful little hamlet, for in the strong, clear sunlight it presented such a picture of indescribable ruin as to sadden them.
Following the road they had taken before, the ambulanciers strolled leisurely ahead. Of course they were always hearing the booming of the guns, some comparatively near, others far in the distance.
They arrived at the great park of the château, however, without running into any adventures, and climbed over the wall.
"Having a definite object in view always adds to the zest of a promenade," remarked Dunstan. "How I hope our curiosity may be appeased as a result of this visit!"
"I'm afraid it isn't at all likely," said Chase, with a dubious shake of his head.
"Anyway, we're getting lots of fun out of it," put in Don, leading the advance along the carriage road. "My, how different this place looks from the way it did the other night!"
"Yes; the shadows and mystery have gone, but not the charm," remarked Dunstan. "Our imaginations are no longer acted on by the mystic spell of the night. Ah, how beautiful nature is! As Bryant says: 'For our gayer hours she has a voice of gladness and a smile.'"
"True enough!" said Chase.
It took quite a while for the three to reach the point from which Don had seen the strange light in the window, for Dunstan was forever stopping to call his companions' attention to some interesting view. But none proved so interesting as the sight of the grand old château itself, with its massive, picturesque walls looming up in sunlight and shadow.
While they stood there admiring it an airplane was suddenly discovered soaring majestically in the eastern sky.
"Hello! I wish I'd noticed that bird before," exclaimed Dunstan. "Quick, fellows—get to cover!"
He sprang toward a near-by clump of trees.
His companions immediately followed.
"Confound it! Who knows but what powerful field-glasses may not be leveled on the château at this very moment!" cried Don. "We must be doubly c-a-r-e-f-u-l."
"A bit of profound wisdom!" laughed Chase. He peered cautiously between the leaves and branches. "It's a good thing that machine is pretty far away."
"But it's not far enough away to suit me, however," murmured Dunstan.
Without exposing themselves in the slightest degree, the three keenly watched the machine. Although receiving the attention of the French gunners—for little puffs of white smoke were breaking all about it—the plane continued to approach.
"Lie low—don't budge!" cautioned the art student.
"Catch me trying it!" said Don. "Just to think that before very long I'll be floating around in the air myself!"
"And I certainly won't," declared Chase, emphatically.
After a few minutes had passed the airplane, making a wide, sweeping circle, flew directly toward the German lines, soon disappearing behind the trees in the park.
"Now's our chance!" cried Don.
"Yes. Let's cast aside worries and test the laws of chance," laughed the art student.
"In other words, beat it before another plane comes into view," cried Chase.
Leaving their place of concealment, the boys broke into a run, and, covering the distance to the château in short order, mounted the broad flight of steps at the entrance.
Presently Don Hale was using the big bronze knocker in a lusty fashion.
All three were very curious—very expectant—very hopeful indeed that in another moment the great door might swing wide open and the distinguished-looking Frenchman greet them.
But nothing of the kind occurred.
"It doesn't seem as if there was going to be an instalment to this part of the story," pronounced Dunstan, in a tone of disappointment.
"He may be in there, however, and won't come out," exclaimed Don.
"Then, if the poilu won't come to us we must go to the poilu," declared Chase, very firmly.
The trio hurried down the steps, walked around the building and presently reached the open window.
Forthwith, Don Hale climbed inside.
The aviator's son half expected to hear a challenge hurled at him, but a dreary, mournful silence pervaded the great apartment, which one swift glance showed him to be entirely empty.
"Well, it may be another game of hide-and-seek," he murmured. "But, with daylight in our favor, it ought to be a bit easier than it was the other night."
One after another, Dunstan and Chase followed Don into the château.
"I'm back here again, old chap, to find out to whom I was talking," shouted Chase. "Come—don't be bashful! And kindly leave your revolver behind."
His words rang out startlingly clear, but the footsteps which the ambulanciers thought they might possibly hear in response did not sound.
"Never mind. It doesn't prove anything," said Chase. "To work, boys!"
In view of Chase Manning's strange experience, Don Hale found quite an enjoyable thrill to the situation.
With the daylight streaming through the high windows the magnificence of the apartment became fully revealed, but the ambulanciers, intent upon the task before them, did not linger. In the adjoining room they stopped for a few moments to admire the flood of lovely color in the stained glass windows and then passed on. A thorough examination of the first floor was quickly made.
"It's as certain as anything can be that the 'mysterious poilu' is not down here," declared Chase, at length. "To tell the truth, boys, I've about given up hope of seeing him to-day."
"You can't find a bird if it has flown," laughed Dunstan.
"Adventure, as a rule, comes only when you are not looking for it," commented Don. "Fellows, I will now give an illustration of how the count's guests didn't act when they entered the château."
And, with a laugh, Don bounded up the grand stairway two steps at a time.
A race speedily developed, and no doubt had the stern and dignified Count de Morancourt been present he would have viewed the spectacle with considerable astonishment and indignation. But there were no haughty personages to cast a damper upon the spirits of the Americans, because it very soon developed, "beyond the peradventure of a doubt," as Dunstan expressed it, that there was no one besides themselves within the château. "Unless," he added, "he should have taken refuge in the tower."
"Nothing easier than to find out!" chuckled Don. "Though"—he spoke rather thoughtfully—"it wouldn't be a very pleasant place in which to meet a revolver face to face."
As usual, he took the lead, and presently, in single file, they were ascending the circular staircase which led to the top of the tower. And as no other sounds but the echoes of their own footfalls and voices were heard within the gloomy walls they quite resigned themselves to the thought that their mission had been a failure.
"Very well! But the meeting is only postponed," declared Chase, with a snap of his jaw.
"We must demonstrate, to 'Peewee's' satisfaction at least, that that part of the story will come to an end," laughed Don.
At each of the narrow, iron-barred windows the three paused a moment to make an observation. Arriving at the top, they looked carefully over the edge of the broken wall. The view, very charming and beautiful by the light of the moon, was equally so enveloped in the hazy sunlight. Patches of timber and hills and valleys were spread out before their eyes. It was vast and impressive, with the far distant slopes scarcely seen against the brilliant sky. Here and there little clusters of ruined buildings marked the sites of former villages. Faint whitish lines, glimpses of roads, ran in this direction and that. They could make out, too, both the French and German trenches and hear the occasional cracking of rifles, which showed that the countryside was not so deserted as it seemed. But once again the famous "No Man's Land" aroused their greatest interest. Through Dunstan's binocular the field of ripening grain which flourished upon its sinister surface was plainly visible, still waving and rippling in the capricious breeze.
"Magnificent!" exclaimed the art student. "There's only one thing that prevents me from making a sketch."
"What's that?" asked Chase.
"The danger of being discovered by the Germans," chuckled Dunstan.
"My, what a jolly fine park this is!" broke in Don. "There's the fountain we saw the other night." He turned the field-glass upon it. "Crickets! Through this it seems just as if I were standing right beside it. Say, fellows, the guns are still pounding away in a pretty lively fashion."
"When aren't they?" demanded Chase.
"And look—look!—A shell-burst! My, my! What a whopper!"
"That's not a very unusual sight," commented the art student dryly.
"No; it's almost impossible to glance in any direction without seeing a cloud of smoke just above the ground," declared Chase. "And though it seems like peace itself up here in the tower, amidst this balmy sunshine, in reality it is a terribly dangerous position. Better not test the laws of chance too far."
"Quite correct!" assented Dunstan. "Hello!—a German observation balloon!"
Hazy and indistinct in the distance, it rose by slow degrees against the sky, and then, gently swaying from side to side, remained in a stationary position.
"That's mighty interesting!" cried Don. "We'll each take a look and then skip."
Never forgetting the absolute necessity for using the greatest caution, Don turned his glass on the balloon. He gave a little gasp of astonishment. By the aid of the powerful binocular he could even see the observers in the basket suspended beneath the great, unwieldy monster, and in his eyes those faint and tiny specks assumed a most tremendous interest and importance. It was not very often, he reflected, that Germans were seen as foemen, at liberty and engaged in their work.
And while he was studying them intently there came an interruption—a most startling interruption, and one which brought a cry of the greatest astonishment and alarm from the lips of every one. It was a bright spurt of flame in the midst of a patch of trees close to the château and a frightful, deafening detonation which jarred and shook the tower in the most violent fashion.
The trees instantly vanished, and where they had been rose a huge and cyclonic mass of black smoke mixed with earth, branches and stones—a terrifying spectacle indeed.
Like a flash, the ambulanciers realized the awful truth—the Château de Morancourt was once more being shelled.