assault,"
said the millionaire.

"Don't be afraid, sir. I saw the war of '70," said Firmin boldly,
rising to the occasion.

"Good!" said the millionaire. "I confide the chateau to you. I trust
you with my treasures."

He rose, and saying "Come along, we must be getting to the station," he
led the way to the door of the chateau.

The luggage-cart stood rather high, and they had to bring a chair out
of the hall to enable the girls to climb into it. Germaine did not
forget to give her real opinion of the advantages of a seat formed by a
plank resting on the sides of the cart. The millionaire climbed heavily
up in front, and took the reins.

"Never again will I trust only to motor-cars. The first thing I'll do
after I've made sure that my collections are safe will be to buy
carriages--something roomy," he said gloomily, as he realized the
discomfort of his seat.

He turned to Jean and Firmin, who stood on the steps of the chateau
watching the departure of their master, and said: "Sons of France, be
brave--be brave!"

The cart bumped off into the damp, dark night.

Jean and Firmin watched it disappear into the darkness. Then they came
into the chateau and shut the door.

Firmin looked at Jean, and said gloomily: "I don't like this. These
burglars stick at nothing. They'd as soon cut your throat as look at
you."

"It can't be helped," said Jean. "Besides, you've got the post of
honour. You guard the hall. I'm to look after the drawing-rooms.
They're not likely to break in through the drawing-rooms. And I shall
lock the door between them and the hall."

"No, no; you won't lock that door!" cried Firmin.

"But I certainly will," said Jean. "You'd better come and get a gun."

They went to the gun-room, Firmin still protesting against the locking
of the door between the drawing-rooms and the hall. He chose his gun;
and they went into the kitchen. Jean took two bottles of wine, a
rich-looking pie, a sweet, and carried them to the drawing-room. He
came back into the hall, gathered together an armful of papers and
magazines, and went back to the drawing-room. Firmin kept trotting
after him, like a little dog with a somewhat heavy footfall.

On the threshold of the drawing-room Jean paused and said: "The
important thing with burglars is to fire first, old cock. Good-night.
Pleasant dreams."

He shut the door and turned the key. Firmin stared at the decorated
panels blankly. The beauty of the scheme of decoration d