And I believe that every man in the garrison here will
be needed."

"Well--" Du Chaillu hesitated. "Perhaps you are right. I myself
cannot see of what use an armed escort can be to you. There is not the
slightest real chance of any trouble between here and your home. Good
luck to you--and may we meet again in a time when our anxieties and our
fears for our country shall be at an end!"

"Good-bye, sir, and thank you!" said Paul and Arthur together.

In the town they got bicycles at a place where they were well known.
Du Chaillu had given them the countersign, and they needed it near
Boncelles, since they were challenged. They rode swiftly along, and as
they neared the house, they saw a bright glare in the sky.

CHAPTER VII

THE FIRE

"That's from a fire, Paul!" said Arthur. "And
it looks--"

"As if it came from Uncle Henri's house? It
certainly does, Arthur! Oh, but I hope it isn't!
That would be dreadful!"

They raced on now, and as they hastened, the sky
before them grew ever brighter. They could no
longer doubt that the glare they saw came from a
conflagration, and it grew more and more certain
every minute that it was their own summer home
that was burning. There was no other house in
that direction that would produce such a splendid
reflection were it afire.

And soon, too, they came in sight of the house,
and all hope that they were mistaken vanished.
It was M. de Frenard's house, and a single glance
showed that there was no hope of saving it.
Flames were spurting from every window, and
through the roof, even as they came into plain
sight of the house, there burst a great pillar of
fire. There seemed to be an explosion of some sort,
for a great mass of sparks shot upward toward
the heavens, raining down a moment later. In the
light of the fire they could see the men-servants
and some of the peasant neighbors busily engaged
in dragging a few pieces of furniture and some
pictures across the lawn--evidently what little
there had been time to drag from the burning
house. They could see also a group of women,
where Madame de Frenard was calming the
women-servants and trying to bring order out of chaos.

Dropping their bicycles, they ran quickly
toward her, calling her name. As she heard them
she turned, and they saw that her face was radiant.

"Oh, you are safe, then!" she cried. "Now
nothing else matters, since no one is hurt! No one
had seen you two since dinner--I was