The treasure house was a gloomy den of a place, one small, heavily grated window, with dusty diamond-shaped panes, set high and deeply in the wall, like a porthole, being the only means of producing light from the outside, and even that outside a dark little court enclosed by frowning walls. In possession of the safety lanterns, the boys could be considered lucky, not only to enable them to quickly complete the task before them, but the three fire-balls helped wonderfully in relieving the impression of being locked up in a tomb.
In a far corner of this dungeon was an iron-bound, oaken box of considerable size, fastened by a heavy padlock. The discovery of the lock presented the first difficulty not described in the paper which Francois had given Henri.
Billy rattled the lock by a vicious jab with the heel of his shoe, but the effect on link and staple availed about as much as a feather in a gale. Nothing short of dynamite, or the right key, could pass that massive guard.
“Did you think of this?” Billy’s query deserved top line in the useless question column.
[101]
“If I had do you suppose I would be standing here like a hungry man before a baker’s window?”
Henri was completely bowled over, as the saying is, by this hitch in his plans, at the eleventh hour.
Reddy had just completed an unsuccessful assault on the obstinate padlock when Henri astonished his friends by doing some tango steps, setting a lively tune by snapping his fingers.
“Got it, now!” he exclaimed between shuffles. “Keep on your coats, fellows, I’ll be back in no time.”
With that the son of the Trouvilles jumped for the cross-piece in the movable wall section, drew himself up with the agility of a monkey and with equal celerity landed in the passage on the other side of the wall.
The minutes ticked away in Billy’s watch—ten—fifteen—twenty.
No sign of Henri.
“I can’t stand this much longer,” muttered Billy, never taking his eyes from the hole in the wall through which Henri had disappeared.
Reddy tried to tell Billy in French that he would go and hunt for Henri if he (Billy) would not mind.
Billy did mind. He understood Reddy’s gestures if he did not fully comprehend the language.
[102]
“When anybody goes it will be a procession, with me in the lead.”
He had hardly got this positive assertion out of his mouth when he heard something scraping in the passage, followed by the living picture of Henri framed in the opening above. Then the familiar voice:
“It’s all right, Buddy.”
“Just when I was thinkin............