"The colonel must belong up in the pictures here," suggested Billy, duly impressed by the surroundings.
"He is a great noble as well as a great soldier," reverently remarked Marovitch.
"Well," chuckled Billy, "I'm going to keep on my shoes, even though I walk on velvet."
Salisky gave the lad a side glance of disapproval of this levity, of which the young aviator took not the slightest notice.
But Billy warmed to the gracious presence revealed by cordial greeting in the spacious drawing-room.
The card from Colonel Malinkoff had preceded the visitors.
With Marovitch and Salisky in the background, the boys were ushered forward to meet a real, live duke, but, withal, a kindly gentleman without a mark or an affectation of exalted rank.
"Which, may I ask, is the Trouville, the grandson of my old friend?"
Henri bowed acceptance of the honor. With fine and delicate courtesy Billy was made to feel that he was not counted a crowd by being the third participant in a cozy chat.
The duke delighted in his memories of the close alliance he had maintained with the house of Trouville, and received with extreme regret the information that the old château had been razed by the engines of war.