Reddy having resumed his share of the burden of precious stones and gold pieces, the three boys were given, in turn, the glad hand and a stout pull out of the pit. The sergeant tried his best to maintain a severe manner, but the effort proved a rank failure. The delight of the big trooper over the finding and assured safety of his young charges would not down. Even the natural and cultivated reserve of the Englishman was not proof against the affectionate regard he felt for the boys he had both fathered and mothered for these many days.
As the rescue party marched on either side of the sergeant, striving to match his long step, walked Billy and Henri, with Reddy close in the rear.
“You got me in a pretty mess with the colonel, you little rascals.”
“Well, we just had to do it, Sergeant,” answered Henri. “It’s what we came for, and you can’t blame us for not throwing away our last chance to win out. It was for sure our last chance, for Château Trouville is no more.”
There was a note of sadness in the last sentence. It was of great sorrow to Henri that this beautiful home place had been reduced to a smoking ruin, with its priceless works of art and all those heirlooms so dear to the hearts of the race of Trouville.
All that remained of the family fortune had been saved by Henri and his faithful boy friends at the risk of their lives.
Saved? Many a league to travel, before the treasure reached its fixed destination, many a slip to be avoided, many a sharp corner to be bravely turned.
“We thank you with all our hearts, sir.”
The boys were greeting Colonel Bainbridge, and each was favored by that officer with a warm handshake.
“Away with you now,” ordered the colonel. “Get food and rest. To-morrow I have new plans for you. Leave your knapsacks in yonder tent, over which a guard will be mounted.”