"Ah, Mister Ralph dear, how can you be risking your life, and the life of your brother in that way? Shooting at a Prussian, or getting shot at, is all well enough; or going among them with your hair all puffed out, and your face painted brown, and the hair growing all over your face before its time, I say nothing against; but flying through the air, in a balloon, is just tempting the good Providence. I know what it will be. You'll be just touching against a cloud, and tumbling out, and breaking yourselves into smithereens; and nothing to take home to your dear father and mother, not to mention Miss Milly," and Tim fairly blubbered with grief, at the thought.
The boys had great difficulty in pacifying the attached fellow; at last, with a face expressive of mournful resignation, he agreed to remain with Colonel Tempe until they returned; or until their prolonged absence rendered it likely that they would not return at all--Tim evidently making up his mind that the latter contingency would happen. In that case, as Tim--now his corps had ceased to exist--need no longer serve, he expressed his determination to return to Dijon; and to stay with Captain Barclay until the end of the war--as he should not, he said, have the heart to fight any more, when his masters were both killed.
While the conversation had been going on, the boys had continued their toilettes. The preparation which they had obtained gave them an olive complexion; and their transformation was now so complete that the boys would have passed each other unknown, even had they looked steadily at each other. Ralph, especially, was utterly unlike himself.
They now told Tim to go out and get his breakfast, and to return in two hours' time; and then started themselves, rounding their shoulders, and so narrowing their chests as much as possible. Ralph stopped at an optician's, bought a pair of slightly-colored spectacles, and put them on.
It was now twelve o'clock--the preparations having taken them three hours--and they went to the cafe where they were to meet Colonel Tempe, to breakfast. He was already there, and they walked up to the table where he was sitting.
"These seats are engaged," Colonel Tempe said, shortly.
The Barclays sat down at the next table; and called, in a foreign accent, for two glasses of beer. Then they spoke together, for some little time, about a journey from Saint Malo which they had just made; and Ralph then turned to Colonel Tempe, still speaking French with a strong foreign accent.
"Pardon me, colonel," he said, "we have just arrived from England. We have a very large quantity of army shoes, and I should feel under a great obligation if you could inform me who is the proper person to whom to apply."
Colonel Tempe at once informed them, adding:
"If your shoes are good ones, and the price fair, and you can deliver them soon, you will not have to wait long; for they are greatly wanted."