Before they reached the French-Italian frontier Dave realized, with a start, that Admiral Timworth had failed to provide them with such credentials as would probably be called for in crossing the Italian-French frontier, and that they had forgotten to ask for such papers. However, at the frontier stop their friend Dandelli, the Italian naval officer, in uniform, almost ran into them. He was glad to vouch for the pair to the French and Italian guards at that point, and, after some hesitation, Dave and Dan were allowed to proceed into France.
"But be careful to have proper papers when returning, if you come this way," Dandelli smilingly warned them.
It was seven o'clock on the second morning after leaving Naples when the express reached Paris.
Hardly had the train stopped when Darrin and Dalzell were out and moving through the station. Seaman Runkle kept at a distance behind them, his sharp eyes searching for any signs of spies. But Runkle was able to make no report of success when he stepped into the taxicab in which his superior officers sat.
Danny Grin was again busy with his eyes as the taxicab darted through the beautiful streets of the French capital.
"What are you laughing at?" Dave asked suddenly, noting that Dan's grin was even wider than usual.
"Paris strikes me that way—that's all I can tell you," drawled Dan.
"Do you consider Paris a joke?" demanded Darrin.
"Of course not. But Paris has the name of being such a gay town—in peace times, of course. But at this early hour the city looks actually gray to me. If the look of the city doesn't improve, later in the day, I can't understand how any one can feel like being gay."
"Paris and the world have managed well enough, in the past, to combine for gayety," Dave replied. "Just now, of course, with all the men thinking of war, and so many women wearing black for dear ones they've lost at the front, the city can't show much of its former gayety. Paris is going through her ordeal of fire. These are dark days for good old France!"