“What are those?” asked Diamond.
“The disguise worn by the fellow who threw the bomb. He made himself up to look like me. Without doubt, he was the man who was drinking coffee when you entered the room. He was one of the band of Black Brothers.”
“I believe it,” nodded Frank.
Now they again turned their attention to the gendarmes, who were marching their prisoners away. As they departed, the woman turned, and saw Frank standing and staring after her.
“Good night, Monsieur Merriwell!” she called. “You have no reason to leave France now. There is no more danger for you. I admire your nerve, and that is why I tell you this. Good night, and farewell forever!”
In truth it was “farewell forever.” On the following morning, the woman was found dead on the cot in her prison cell. On her left wrist was a tiny drop of blood that had oozed from a slight puncture, like a pin-prick!
The tide in the affairs of justice in France had turned at last, and in the great work of charity toward the unfortunate man who had endured years of torture indescribable on Devil’s Island Frank had had a part, and no small one, either, as he was to learn later. Looking back on that time of danger for the French Republic, before the great public had come to realize that a principle was above a party-cry in the affairs of democracy, it seems strange that a leading part in the struggle was taken by an American, a mere lad. But, as a French statesman said, when this comment was made before him: “Oui, monsieur! A lad, a mere lad, if you will; but, remember, this mere lad was an American lad, and the type of the best of young American manhood!”
Frank’s stay in France was not ended, and he had still to encounter many dangers at the hands of his enemies, but we must leave him for the present. Of one thing, however, there need be no doubt. Whatever his perils, whatever dangers might threaten, Frank Merriwell was not the lad to quail. For he was American to the core, and Americans do not fail. It might take Frank’s enemies a long time to find it out, but, eventually, they would realize all the French statesman meant, when he said: “This mere lad was an American lad, and the type of the best of young American manhood!”
THE END.