Vigorous indeed was the chorus which accompanied Peré Goubain’s rendition of the first stanza of the “Marseillaise,” and vigorous indeed were the plaudits that resounded throughout the room when the old Frenchman sank back in his armchair.
“Yes, the Yanks are the boys to do it,” exclaimed Peur Jamais. “Now, mes garçons—for the council chamber!”
The “Council Chamber” was an apartment adjoining the main room of the café. An oblong table stood in the centre, smaller ones by the walls; and there were plenty of chairs and tabourets for the use of the Americans, for the room practically belonged to them. Very often old Pére Goubain honored the gathering by his presence, and on this occasion he raised his ponderous form, and, with lumbering tread, followed his guests inside.
For their benefit Pére Goubain, a veteran of the Franco-Prussian war, told several interesting reminiscences about that memorable conflict; then, abruptly, he branched off into a subject which brought the old fiery look back into his usually placid blue eyes.
“Ah, what a wonderful system of espionage the Boches have!” he exclaimed. “Its sinister ramifications extend to every corner of our great land and far beyond the seas.”
“Know anything about it?” queried Peur Jamais, with interest.
“Listen, mes amis”—old Père Goubain spoke gravely: “Many officers are among my acquaintances. One of them belongs to the French Flying Corps, and he, poor fellow, while in a scouting plane far over the enemy’s lines, had the great misfortune to be obliged to descend in hostile territory.”
“Captured?” asked Peur Jamais, quite breathlessly.
“He was. But”—a grim smile played about the Frenchman’s mouth—“somehow, he managed to make his escape, and, after the most nerve-racking ordeals, succeeded in reaching the Swiss frontier, and from thence returned to France. In this very room, Messieurs, he told me his experiences.”
Immediately, to Don Hale, and probably also to a number of the others, that modest interior became invested with a singular interest—with a strange and subtle charm. How wonderful to think that a man who had passed through such harrowing adventures should have actually been in that very place!