The Boy Scouts on the Trail | Page 2

said Harry, simply. Into his eyes came
the look that even French boys have when they remember the days of
1870. "The Germans--yes, they beat us then. We were not ready--we
were badly led. But our time will come--the time of La Revanche. Tell
me, Frank, you have seen the Place de la Concorde, in Paris?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Do you remember the statue of Strassburg? How it is always draped in
black--with mourning wreaths?"
"Yes."
"The day is coming when the black shall be stripped off!
Alsace-Lorraine--they are French at heart, those lost provinces of ours!
They shall be French again in name, too. Strassburg shall guard the
Rhine for us again--Metz shall be a French fortress once more. We
shall fight again--and next time we shall be ready! We shall win!"
"I hope so--if war comes again," said Frank, soberly. "But--"
"If war comes?" said Harry, surprised. "Don't you know it must come?
France knows that--France makes ready. We shall not seek the war. But
it is not enough for us to desire peace. The Prussians are afraid of us.

They will never rest content while we are strong. They thought they
had crushed us forever in 1870--but France was too great for them to
crush! They made us pay a thousand million francs--they thought we
should take years and years to pay, and that meanwhile they would
keep their soldiers on our land, in our fortresses! But no! France paid,
and quickly. And ever since we have prepared for the time when they
would try to finish their work."
"If war comes, I am for France," said Frank, still soberly. "But war is a
dreadful thing, Henri."
"We know that--we in France," said Harry. "But there are things that
are worse than war, Frank. A peace that is without honor is among
them. We do not want to fight, but we are not afraid. When the time
comes, as it is sure to come, we shall be ready. But enough of that.
There will be no war this year or next. We have not settled about your
coming home with me. You will come?"
"I'd love to," said Frank. "If the head master says I can, I will most
gladly. But will your people want me?"
"My friends are their friends," said Harry. "My mother says always,
'Bring a friend with you, Henri.' Oh, there will be plenty for us to do,
too. We shall take long walks and play tennis and ride and shoot. Let us
settle it to-day. Come now to the office with me. We will ask the head
master."
They went forthwith to speak to Monsieur Donnet, the head of the
school, who received them in his office. The school was a small one
but it numbered among its pupils several English and American boys,
whose parents wanted them for one reason or another to acquire a
thorough knowledge of French. He heard their request, which was put
by Henri, pleasantly.
"Yes, that will be very well," he said. "I have been thinking of you,
Barnes. Your uncle has written to me that he will be here about the
tenth or fifteenth of August, and asked permission for you to stay here
until then. But--"

They waited, while M. Donnet thought for a moment.
"Yes, this will be much better," he said. "I--I have been a little troubled
about you, Barnes. If all were well, you might stay here very well.
But--" Again he paused.
"These are strange times," he said. "Boys, have you read in the
newspapers of the trouble between Austria and Servia?"
They looked startled.
"A little, sir," said Frank. "There's always trouble, isn't there, in those
parts?"
"Yes, but this may--who knows?--be different. I do not say there is
more danger than usual but I have heard things, from friends, that have
made me thoughtful. I am a colonel of the reserve!"
Henri's eyes gleamed suddenly, as they had a few minutes before when
he had talked of how France was ready for what might be in store for
her.
"Do you mean that there may be war, sir?" he asked, leaning forward
eagerly.
"No one knows," said the master. "But there are strange tales.
Aeroplanes that no one recognizes have flown above the border in the
Vosges. There are tales of fresh troops that the Germans are sending to
Metz, to Düsseldorf, to Neu Breisach." He struck his hand suddenly on
his desk. "But this I feel--that when war comes it will be like the stroke
of lightning from a clear sky! When there is much talk, there is never
war. When it comes it will be because the diplomats will not have time,
they and the men with money, the Rothschilds and the others, to stop it.
And if there