“Well, Gascon, it’s good to see you again.”

“It is possible, monsieur, that you may see more of me next year. For I shall certainly apply to dismantle the tower, although it is a terrible shame to do it.”

Eiffel smiled at him.

“Then I have good news for you, my friend. I have just concluded an extension of the contract, until 1915.”

“Another six years. That is something at least, monsieur.”

“And I have other plans too. Do you realize the usefulness of the tower, my dear Gascon, for radio communications?”

“I had not really thought of it.”

“Well, I can assure you that the tower is the finest radio mast in the world. And I have a few other things up my sleeve. Trust me, my friend, and I believe I can save our tower. Just give me a little time.”

And some time later Thomas had read in the newspaper that the army and navy had declared that the tower was essential for their military communications.

Once again, the genius of Eiffel had triumphed. The tower was now sacrosanct. It was part of the defense of France.

So today, before they returned home, Thomas Gascon could pause, point to the Eiffel Tower and tell his children: “That tower is so well constructed, it will stand as long as Notre Dame. And always remember,” he added proudly, “that your father built it.”

Luc was waiting for him at the restaurant. The restaurant didn’t open on Sundays, so the shutters were closed.

It was strange for Thomas to realize that his brother was a man in his thirties now. He hadn’t changed that much. His pale face was a little more fleshy. Thomas’s short brown curls had thinned, but Luc had exactly the same dark hair falling handsomely over his forehead. He looked like an Italian restaurant owner.

And his small restaurant, though it wasn’t making him rich, was undoubtedly providing him with far more income than Thomas could ever earn in manual work.

He still hadn’t married. But Thomas had seen his brother with a succession of handsome women.

The object to be moved turned out to be something more mundane than the Mona Lisa. It was just a carpet.

“I thought it would be a good idea when I put it down,” Luc confessed, “but it wasn’t, and we’re tripping over the edges. I’m going back to a bare floor, and I’ll use the carpet for my own house.” The tables had already been moved to the side and the carpet lay rolled and tied in the center of the floor.

“It’s heavy,” said Thomas as they began to drag it out to the cart.

“It’s good quality,” said Luc. “That’s why I’m taking it for the house.”

They had quite a job getting it onto the handcart, and a section stuck out at the back, but Luc supported it and pushed while Thomas pulled the cart from the front.

“We need Robert,” said Thomas.