So they parted with mutual good wishes.
Frank found himself again on the streets of the French seacoast city. Dunkirk was a far different place in these strenuous war times from the other days, when peace lay upon the land, and men went about their customary vocations of fishing, trading, and disposing of the products of the rich soil.
Now everywhere he looked Frank could see soldiers, and then more soldiers. They thronged the principal streets, and passed in and out of the shops buying things that appealed to their fancy. There were all manner of strange foreign troops to be met with—Gurkhas from far-away India; Canadians who resembled the Rough Riders of our own Spanish War times; Colonials from Australia or New Zealand; and many others who interested the boy very much.
Then, with the warning of Major Nixon still ringing in his ears, Frank suddenly became aware of the fact that he himself was an object of interest, though there was nothing about his make-up calculated to attract attention in all that strange collection of men from the four quarters of the globe.
Several times, on glancing hastily about him, he had noticed a certain man dressed like a citizen apparently staring into the window of a store. Frank began to believe the man was following him, and so he made a test to prove it.
“I like that, now,” he said to himself, with a chuckle when again he found that he had not shaken the unknown off his track by slipping into a certain side street, for the man was standing there on the curb as he turned, and calmly brushing his sleeve as though utterly unconcerned.
“I wonder if they would dare try to stop me on the way to the hangar,” Frank was asking himself, though he immediately added: “that’s hardly likely, for there’s really no time when I’m out of sight of soldiers on the road, because they’re going and coming constantly. I could even fall in behind a regiment if I wanted, and have plenty of company all the way to the gates of our compound.”
Just then he found himself attracted by the actions of a couple ahead of him, a man of middle age and a woman. Apparently she had been seized with some sort of vertigo, for the man was acting as though dreadfully alarmed. He had thrown an arm about her, and was looking around in an appealing way.
It happened that Frank was about the only person nearby, and it was only natural for him to hasten forward.
“Oh! please help me support my wife, young sir!” exclaimed the citizen as Frank arrived. “She is fainting, and just when we had reached our home here. Would you mind supporting her on the other side, and assisting me to get her to the door?”