“But what gallant service it is. Permit me now, my dear Gilbert, to present the youths who also fly with the best, Monsieur Trouville and Baree, also the young men who travel with them.”
Jimmy and Reddy felt a couple of inches growth through the tops of their heads. Billy was thinking how “Baree” would sound in Bangor.
Gilbert spoke rapidly and to the point. He was here to receive the aëroplanes which had been specially built for his government. An expert assistant in assembling these machines was overdue, and it was a matter of emergency—of great emergency, he emphasized.
To his patriotic friend, who had so generously praised him a few minutes before, he had confided his troubles, and this meeting was arranged. Would the young gentlemen volunteer for this relief service?
The young gentlemen would—and did, and in less than a day, the new machines were set to the tune of flight.
The master of the mansion was a picture of delight over the success of that which he had brought about, and even cherished a fond hope that he had permanently added to the flying corps of his beloved France.
He assured the boys that when they followed Gilbert in the air trip up the Seine to the capital, it was insuring them a welcome beyond anything they could have expected—doubly welcome, indeed, with this and with the endorsement of the power at Calais.
“I wish I knew how far his knowledge goes regarding the sealed packet that I am carrying,” thought Henri.
But about this, Henri discreetly resolved not to ask any questions.
As to the manner of proceeding on their aërial journey, it was decided, of course, that Gilbert should lead in one machine, Henri and Reddy in the second, and Billy and Jimmy in the third.