CHAPTER IX

THE ESCAPE

"Yes," replied Colonel Pavet, "your mother, Madame Sheldon,--it seems strange for me to name her thus, for I never think of her except as Lucie De Latour, as I knew her in her girlhood--has a very excellent prospect of coming into the property that was willed to her."

"I'm very glad to hear that!" exclaimed Frank. "And I know that my mother will be pleased too. I have told her in my letters about my meeting with you, and I gave her the remembrances that you were kind enough to send her. She was delighted to know that I had met one of her old neighbors in Auvergne, and she asked me to thank you most heartily for your kindness in promising to look after her interests."

The colonel smiled genially.

"She is too good," he responded. "The obligation is all on my side. My humble services would have been at her disposal in any event simply for the sake of old friendship. But how much more ought they to be wholly hers, now that her son has saved my life."

"I am afraid you put too much value on what I did, Colonel," said Frank deprecatingly.

"It was something that not one in ten thousand would have done," replied the colonel warmly. "When I found myself helpless and wounded on that field of death I thought my life was over, and I had commended my soul to God."

"I'm glad that you have lived to strike another blow for France," said Frank.

"Ah, for France!" repeated the colonel fervently, as he lifted his cap reverently.

"As I started to say," he resumed after a moment, "your mother's prospects for coming into her own are excellent. After my wound I was sent home, and for some time it was doubtful whether I would live or die. But God was good and I recovered. While I was gradually mending I had ample time to look into that matter of the contested will. And, fortunately, just at that time my brother Andre, who is one of the leading lawyers of Paris, came to the chateau to see and cheer me up while I was convalescing. I laid the whole matter before him, and he went into it thoroughly. He has gone over all the proceedings in the case, and he tells me that there is no doubt that your mother has the law as well as right--unfortunately they are not always the same thing-- on her side. He says that the testimony of those who are contesting the will smacks strongly of perjury. It is too bad that your mother cannot be here, for then Andre thinks the whole thing could be straightened out at once."

"It is too bad," agreed Frank; "but in the present state of things, and the danger on the Atlantic from submarines, I would not want her to take the risk. But what you say delights me, as I am sure it will her, and I can't thank you enough for all the trouble you have taken."

"Not trouble, but pleasure," corrected the colonel. "And you can be assured that the matter will not be allowed to lag now that Andre has taken it up. When he starts a case he can be depended on to carry it through to a finish. I will keep in close touch with him and will let you know from time to time how the matter is progressing. But now tell me about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," replied Frank. "I'm well and have been lucky enough so far not to have stopped a bullet."

The colonel's eyes twinkled.

"Not much to tell," he repeated. "No, not if Monsieur Sheldon does the telling. But there are others who speak more freely. Your captain, for instance."

Frank flushed uncomfortably and Colonel Pavet laughed outright.

"Bravery and modesty usually go together," he went on. "How about that machine gun episode yesterday, when an American soldier cut down its crew, turned it on the enemy trench and compelled the men in it to surrender? How about the raiding party where five men accounted for fourteen of the Huns? You see, _mon ami_, that I have a good memory for details. Ah, you are blushing. I wonder if you, too, could recall these things if you tried."

"There were a lot of us in on them," parried Frank, "and one did as much as another."

"Well," rejoined the colonel, "I'm proud that a French woman is your mother. You have a glorious heritage in the traditions of two gallant countries. And I rejoice to see the way you Americans are throwing yourselves into the fighting. We were sorely pressed by the Hun hordes and were fighting with our backs against the wall."

"And such fighting!" returned Frank enthusiastically. "The world has never seen anything finer. The spirit of France is unconquerable."

"Yes," replied the colonel proudly. "As one of our great orators has said: 'If the men are all killed the women will rise up; if the women are killed the children will rise; if the children are killed the very dead will rise and fight--fight for France."

"But I must go on," he continued, motioning to his orderly to bring up his horse. "I have a long journey yet before I reach the headquarters of my division. I am more delighted than I can tell that I met you as I did. May we meet again soon."

"In Berlin, if not sooner," interjected Frank with a smile.

"Ah, that is it," said the colonel delightedly. "In Berlin! That is the way to speak. It may be a long time, but sooner or later the Stars and Stripes and the Tricolor will wave together _Unter den Linden_. May Heaven speed the day!"

The French officer wrung Frank's hand warmly, sprang into the saddle, and with Frank's "_bon voyage_" ringing in his ears, galloped rapidly away.

Twilight was coming on as Frank set out to rejoin his comrades, who were waiting for him at a little distance down the road. His heart was light, for he had news to write his mother that he knew would bring her pleasure.

"Some swell," chaffed Tom, as Frank came up to his friends. "Talking to a colonel as though he were a pal. I wonder that you condescend to talk to us common privates."

"It is a comedown," grinned Frank; "but I'll try to tolerate you for a while longer. But say, fellows, that colonel is a brick! Not a bit of side about him. And he's doing a lot for us in the matter of my mother's property that I've told you about."

"That's bully!" exclaimed Bart heartily.

"I'll forgive him," conceded Tom magnanimously, "even if he does talk in a lingo that I can't understand."

"Why, I thought you were a finished French scholar by this time," chaffed Bart.

"Do you remember the day Tom tried to ask for soup and got his tongue twisted around 'bouillon'?" gibed Billy, with a broad grin.

"Well, I got the soup anyway, didn't I?" defended Tom.

"Sure you got it," agreed Billy. "I could hear you getting it."

Tom made a pass at him that Billy ducked.

"Talking about soup makes me hungry," remarked Bart. "If you fellows stand talking here much longer we'll be late at chow."

"I'd like to have one more look at that hut Rabig's guarding," said Frank a little uneasily.

"We might stroll down this way again after supper if you like," suggested Billy, "but just at present a little knife and fork exercise seems the most pressing business I have to attend to."

Just then their talk was interrupted by a single shot, followed by a volley of them, and looking back in the direction from which they had come, they saw men running in the direction of the hut that Rabig had been guarding.

They turned and ran at full speed and were soon in the midst of an excited group gathered about the hut.

"What's up?" asked Frank of one of the soldiers.

"Prisoner escaped," replied the other briefly.

"What prisoner?"

"The fellow that Rabig was guarding. Some way or other he got out, managed to strike Rabig down and skipped. Poor Rabig's pretty badly messed up."

The boys looked at each other.

"_Poor_ Rabig," repeated Tom, and there was a world of meaning in his tone.