by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXXII. THE AWAKENING.
The weather, damp and foggy during a portion of the night, became clearand cold towards morning. Through the glazed skylight of Agricola'sgarret, where he lay with his father, a corner of the blue sky could beseen.
The apartment of the young blacksmith had an aspect as poor as thesewing-girl's. For its sole ornament, over the deal table upon whichAgricola wrote his poetical inspirations, there hung suspended from anail in the wall a portrait of Beranger--that immortal poet whom thepeople revere and cherish, because his rare and transcendent genius hasdelighted to enlighten the people, and to sing their glories and theirreverses.
Although the day had only begun to dawn, Dagobert and Agricola hadalready risen. The latter had sufficient self command to conceal hisinquietude, for renewed reflection had again increased his fears.
The recent outbreak in the Rue des Prouvaires had caused a great numberof precautionary arrests; and the discovery of numerous copiesof Agricola's song, in the possession of one of the chiefs of thedisconcerted plot, was, in truth, calculated slightly to compromise theyoung blacksmith. His father, however, as we have already mentioned,suspected not his secret anguish. Seated by the side of his son, uponthe edge of their mean little bed, the old soldier, by break of day,had dressed and shaved with military care; he now held between his handsboth those of Agricola, his countenance radiant with joy, and unable todiscontinue the contemplation of his boy.
"You will laugh at me, my dear boy," said Dagobert to his son; "but Iwished the night to the devil, in order that I might gaze upon you infull day, as I now see you. But all in good time; I have lost nothing.Here is another silliness of mine; it delights me to see you wearmoustaches. What a splendid horse-grenadier you would have made! Tellme; have you never had a wish to be a soldier?"
"I thought of mother!"
"That's right," said Dagobert: "and besides, I believe, after all, lookye, that the time of the sword has gone by. We old fellows are now goodfor nothing, but to be put in a corner of the chimney. Like rusty oldcarbines, we have had our day."
"Yes; your days of heroism and of glory," said Agricola with excitement;and then he added, with a voice profoundly softened and agitated, "it issomething good and cheering to be your son!"
"As to the good, I know nothing of that," replied Dagobert; "but as forthe cheering, it ought to be so; for I love you proudly. And I thinkthis is but the beginning! What say you, Agricola? I am like thefamished wretches who have been some days without food. It is but bylittle and little that they recover themselves, and can eat. Now, youmay expect to be tasted, my boy, morning and evening, and devouredduring the day. No, I wish not to think that--not all the day--no, thatthought dazzles and perplexes me; and I am no longer myself."
These words of Dagobert caused a painful feeling to Agricola. Hebelieved that they sprang from a presentiment of the separation withwhich he was menaced.
"Well," continued Dagobert; "you are quite happy; M. Hardy is alwaysgood to you."
"Oh!" replied Agricola: "there is none in the world better, or moreequitable and generous! If you knew what wonders he has brought aboutin his factory! Compared to all others, it is a paradise beside thestithies of Lucifer!"
"Indeed!" said Dagobert.
"You shall see," resumed Agricola, "what welfare, what joy, whataffection, are displayed upon the countenances of all whom he employs;who work with an ardent pleasure.
"This M. Hardy of yours must be an out-and-out magician," said Dagobert.
"He is, father, a very great magician. He has known how to render laborpleasant and attractive. As for the pleasure, over and above good wages,he accords to us a portion of his profits according to our deserts;whence you may judge of the eagerness with which we go to work. And thatis not all: he has caused large, handsome buildings to be erected, inwhich all his workpeople find, at less expense than elsewhere, cheerfuland salubrious lodgings, in which they enjoy all the advantages of anassociation. But you shall see--I repeat--you shall see!"
"They have good reason to say, that Paris is the region of wonders,"observed Dagobert.
"Well, behold me here again at last, never more to quit you, nor goodmother!"
"No, father, we will never separate again," said Agricola, stifling asigh. "My mother and I will both try to make you forget all that youhave suffered."
"Suffered!" exclaimed Dagobert, "who the deuce has suffered? Look mewell in the face; and see if I have a look of suffering! Bombs andbayonets! Since I have put my foot here, I feel myself quite a young managain! You shall see me march soon: I bet that I tire you out! You mustrig yourself up something extra! Lord, how they will stare at us! Iwager that in beholding your black moustache and my gray one, folks willsay, behold father and son! But let us settle what we are to do with theday. You will write to the father of Marshal Simon, informing him thehis grand-daughters have arrived, and that it is necessary that heshould hasten his return to Paris; for he has charged himself withmatters which are of great importance for them. While you are writing,I will go down to say good-morning to my wife, and to the dear littleones. We will then eat a morsel. Your mother will go to mass; for Iperceive that she likes to be regular at that: the good soul! no greatharm, if it amuse her! and during her absence, we will make a raidtogether."
"Father," said Agricola, with embarrassment, "this morning it is out ofmy power to accompany you."
"How! out of your power?" said Dagobert; "recollect this is Monday!"
"Yes, father," said Agricola, hesitatingly; "but I have promised toattend all the morning in the workshop, to finish a job that is requiredin a hurry. If I fail to do so, I shall inflict some injury upon M.Hardy. But I'll soon be at liberty."
"That alters the case," said Dagobert, with a sigh of regret. "I thoughtto make my first parade through Paris with you this morning; but it mustbe deferred in favor of your work. It is sacred: since it is that whichsustains your mother. Nevertheless, it is vexatious, devilish vexatious.And yet no--I am unjust. See how quickly one gets habituated to andspoilt by happiness. I growl like a true grumbler, at a walk being putoff for a few hours! I do this! I who, during eighteen years, have onlyhoped to see you once more, without daring to reckon very much uponit! Oh! I am but a silly old fool! Vive l'amour et cogni--I mean--myAgricola!" And, to console himself, the old soldier gayly slapped hisson's shoulder.
This seemed another omen of evil to the blacksmith; for he dreaded onemoment to another lest the fears of Mother Bunch should be realized."Now that I have recovered myself," said Dagobert, laughing, "letus speak of business. Know you where I find the addresses of all thenotaries in Paris?"
"I don't know; but nothing is more easy than to discover it."
"My reason is," resumed Dagobert, "that I sent from Russia by post, andby order of the mother of the two children that I have brought here,some important papers to a Parisian notary. As it was my duty to seethis notary immediately upon my arrival, I had written his name and hisaddress in a portfolio, of which however, I have been robbed during myjourney; and as I have forgotten his devil of a name, it seems to me,that if I should see it again in the list of notaries, I might recollectit."
Two knocks at the door of the garret made Agricola start. Heinvoluntarily thought of a warrant for his apprehension.
His father, who, at the sound of the knocking turned round his head, hadnot perceived his emotion, and said with a loud voice: "Come in!" Thedoor opened. It was Gabriel. He wore a black cassock and a broad brimmedhat.
To recognize his brother by adoption, and to throw himself into hisarms, were two movements performed at once by Agricola--as quick asthought.--"My brother!" exclaimed Agricola.
"Agricola!" cried Gabriel.
"Gabriel!" responded the blacksmith.
"After so long an absence!" said the one.
"To behold you again!" rejoined the other.
Such were the words exchanged between the blacksmith and the missionary,while they were locked in a close embrace.
Dagobert, moved and charmed by these fraternal endearments, felt hiseyes become moist. There was something truly touching in the affectionof the young men--in their hearts so much alike, and yet of charactersand aspects so very different--for the manly countenance of Agricolacontrasted strongly with the delicacy and angelic physiognomy ofGabriel.
"I was forewarned by my father of your arrival," said the blacksmith atlength. "I have been expecting to see you; and my happiness has beena hundred times the greater, because I have had all the pleasures ofhoping for it."
"And my good mother?" asked Gabriel, in affectionately grasping thehands of Dagobert. "I trust that you have found her in good health."
"Yes, my brave boy!" replied Dagobert; "and her health will have becomea hundred times better, now that we are all together. Nothing is sohealthful as joy." Then addressing himself to Agricola, who, forgettinghis fear of being arrested, regarded the missionary with an expressionof ineffable affection, Dagobert added:
"Let it be remembered, that, with the soft cheek of a young girl,Gabriel has the courage of a lion; I have already told with whatintrepidity he saved the lives of Marshal Simon's daughters, and triedto save mine also."
"But, Gabriel! what has happened to your forehead?" suddenly exclaimedAgricola, who for a few seconds had been attentively examining themissionary.
Gabriel, having thrown aside his hat on entering, was now directlybeneath the skylight of the garret apartment, the bright light throughwhich shone upon his sweet, pale countenance: and the round scar,which extended from one eyebrow to the other, was therefore distinctlyvisible.
In the midst of the powerful and diversified emotion, and of theexciting events which so rapidly followed the shipwreck on the rockycoast near Cardoville House, Dagobert, during the short interview hethen had with Gabriel, had not perceived the scar which seamed theforehead of the young missionary. Now, partaking, however, of thesurprise of his son, Dagobert said:
"Aye, indeed! how came this scar upon your brow?"
"And on his hands, too; see, dear father!" exclaimed the blacksmith,with renewed surprise, while he seized one of the hands which the youngpriest held out towards him in order to tranquillize his fears.
"Gabriel, my brave boy, explain this to us!" added Dagobert; "whohas wounded you thus?" and in his turn, taking the other hand of themissionary, he examined the scar upon it with the eye of a judge ofwounds, and then added, "In Spain, one of my comrades was found andtaken down alive from a cross, erected at the junction of several roads,upon which the monks had crucified, and left him to die of hunger,thirst, and agony. Ever afterwards he bore scars upon his hands, exactlysimilar to this upon your hand."
"My father is right!" exclaimed Agricola. "It is evident that yourhands have been pierced through! My poor brother!" and Agricola becamegrievously agitated.
"Do not think about it," said Gabriel, reddening with the embarrassmentof modesty. "Having gone as a missionary amongst the savages of theRocky Mountains, they crucified me, and they had begun to scalp me, whenProvidence snatched me from their hands."
"Unfortunate youth," said Dagobert; "without arms then? You had not asufficient escort for your protection?"
"It is not for such as me to carry arms." said Gabriel, sweetly smiling;"and we are never accompanied by any escort."
"Well, but your companions, those who were along with you, how came itthat they did not defend you?" impetuously asked Agricola.
"I was alone, my dear brother."
"Alone!"
"Yes, alone; without even a guide."
"You alone! unarmed! in a barbarous country!" exclaimed Dagobert,scarcely crediting a step so unmilitary, and almost distrusting his ownsense of hearing.
"It was sublime!" said the young blacksmith and poet.
"The Christian faith," said Gabriel, with mild simplicity, "cannot beimplanted by force or violence. It is only by the power of persuasionthat the gospel can be spread amongst poor savages."
"But when persuasions fail!" said Agricola.
"Why, then, dear brother, one has but to die for the belief that isin him, pitying those who have rejected it, and who have refused theblessings it offers to mankind."
There was a period of profound silence after the reply of Gabriel, whichwas uttered with simple and touching pathos.
Dagobert was in his own nature too courageous not to comprehend aheroism thus calm and resigned; and the old soldier, as well as hisson, now contemplated Gabriel with the most earnest feelings of mingledadmiration and respect.
Gabriel, entirely free from the affection of false modesty, seemed quiteunconscious of the emotions which he had excited in the breasts of histwo friends; and he therefore said to Dagobert, "What ails you?"
"What ails me!" exclaimed the brave old soldier, with great emotion:"After having been for thirty years in the wars, I had imagined myselfto be about as courageous as any man. And now I find I have a master!And that master is yourself!"
"I!" said Gabriel; "what do you mean? What have I done?"
"Thunder, don't you know that the brave wounds there" (the veterantook with transport both of Gabriel's hands), "that these wounds areas glorious--are more glorious than our--than all ours, as warriors byprofession!"
"Yes! yes, my father speaks truth!" exclaimed Agricola; and he added,with enthusiasm, "Oh, for such priests! How I love them! How Ivenerate them! How I am elevated by their charity, their courage, theirresignation!"
"I entreat you not to extol me thus," said Gabriel with embarrassment.
"Not extol you!" replied Dagobert. "Hanged if I shouldn't. When I havegone into the heat of action, did I rush into it alone? Was I not underthe eyes of my commanding officer? Were not my comrades there alongwith me? In default of true courage, had I not the instinct of selfpreservation to spur me on, without reckoning the excitement of theshouts and tumult of battle, the smell of the gunpowder, the flourishesof the trumpets, the thundering of the cannon, the ardor of my horse,which bounded beneath me as if the devil were at his tail? Need I statethat I also knew that the emperor was present, with his eye upon everyone--the emperor, who, in recompense for a hole being made in my toughhide, would give me a bit of lace or a ribbon, as plaster for the wound.Thanks to all these causes, I passed for game. Fair enough! But areyou not a thousand times more game than I, my brave boy; going alone,unarmed, to confront enemies a hundred times more ferocious than thosewhom we attacked--we, who fought in whole squadrons, supported byartillery, bomb-shells, and case-shot?"
"Excellent father!" cried Agricola, "how noble of you to render toGabriel this justice!"
"Oh, dear brother," said Gabriel, "his kindness to me makes him magnifywhat was quite natural and simple!"
"Natural!" said the veteran soldier; "yes, natural for gallants who havehearts of the true temper: but that temper is rare."
"Oh, yes, very rare," said Agricola; "for that kind of courage is themost admirable of all. Most bravely did you seek almost certain death,alone, bearing the cross in hand as your only weapon, to preach charityand Christian brotherhood. They seized you, tortured you; and you awaitdeath and partly endure it, without complaint, without remonstrance,without hatred, without anger, without a wish for vengeance; forgivenessissuing from your mouth, and a smile of pity beaming upon your lips;and this in the depths of forests, where no one could witness yourmagnanimity,--none could behold you--and without other desire, after youwere rescued than modestly to conceal blessed wounds under your blackrobe! My father is right, by Jove! can you still contend that you arenot as brave as he?"
"And besides, too," resumed Dagobert, "the dear boy did all that fora thankless paymaster; for it is true, Agricola, that his wounds willnever change his humble black robe of a priest into the rich robe of abishop!"
"I am not so disinterested as I may seem to be," said Gabriel toDagobert, smiling meekly. "If I am deemed worthy, a great recompenseawaits me on high."
"As to all that, my boy," said Dagobert, "I do not understand it; and Iwill not argue about it. I main
tain it, that my old cross of honor wouldbe at least as deservedly affixed to your cassock as upon my uniform."
"But these recompenses are never conferred upon humble priests likeGabriel," said Agricola, "and if you did know, dear father, howmuch virtue and valor is among those whom the highest orders in thepriesthood insolently call the inferior clergy,--the unseen merit andthe blind devotedness to be found amongst worthy, but obscure, countrycurates, who are inhumanly treated and subjugated to a pitiless yoke bythe lordly lawnsleeves! Like us, those poor priests are worthy laborersin their vocation; and for them, also, all generous hearts ought todemand enfranchisement! Sons of common people, like ourselves, anduseful as we are, justice ought to be rendered both to them and to us.Do I say right, Gabriel? You will not contradict it; for you have toldme, that your ambition would have been to obtain a small country curacy;because you understand the good that you could work within it."
"My desire is still the same," said Gabriel sadly: "but unfortunately--"and then, as if he wished to escape from a painful thought, and tochange the conversation, he, addressing himself to Dagobert, added:"Believe me: be more just than to undervalue your own courage byexalting mine. Your courage must be very great--very great; for, aftera battle, the spectacle of the carnage must be truly terrible to agenerous and feeling heart. We, at least, though we may be killed, donot kill."
At these words of the missionary, the soldier drew himself up erect,looked upon Gabriel with astonishment, and said, "This is mostsurprising!"
"What is?" inquired Agricola.
"What Gabriel has just told us," replied Dagobert, "brings to my mindwhat I experienced in warfare on the battlefield in proportion as Iadvanced in years. Listen, my children: more than once, on thenight after a general engagement, I have been mounted as avidette,--alone,--by night,--amid the moonlight, on the field of battlewhich remained in our possession, and upon which lay the bodies ofseven or eight thousand of the slain, amongst whom were mingled theslaughtered remains of some of my old comrades: and then this sad scene,when the profound silence has restored me to my senses from the thirstfor bloodshed and the delirious whirling of my sword (intoxicatedlike the rest), I have said to myself, 'for what have these men beenkilled?--FOR WHAT--FOR WHAT?' But this feeling, well understood as itwas, hindered me not, on the following morning, when the trumpets againsounded the charge, from rushing once more to the slaughter. But thesame thought always recurred when my arm became weary with carnage; andafter wiping my sabre upon the mane of my horse, I have said to myself,'I have killed!--killed!!--killed!!! and, FOR WHAT!!!'"
The missionary and the blacksmith exchanged looks on hearing the oldsoldier give utterance to this singular retrospection of the past.
"Alas!" said Gabriel to him, "all generous hearts feel as you did duringthe solemn moments, when the intoxication of glory has subsided, andman is left alone to the influence of the good instincts planted in hisbosom."
"And that should prove, my brave boy," rejoined Dagobert, "that you aregreatly better than I; for those noble instincts, as you call them, havenever abandoned you. * * * * But how the deuce did you escape from theclaws of the infuriated savages who had already crucified you?"
At this question of Dagobert, Gabriel started and reddened so visibly,that the soldier said to him: "If you ought not or cannot answer myrequest, let us say no more about it."
"I have nothing to conceal, either from you or from my brother," repliedthe missionary with altered voice. "Only; it will be difficult for me tomake you comprehend what I cannot comprehend myself."
"How is that?" asked Agricola with surprise.
"Surely," said Gabriel, reddening more deeply, "I must have beendeceived by a fallacy of my senses, during that abstracted moment inwhich I awaited death with resignation. My enfeebled mind, in spite ofme, must have been cheated by an illusion; or that, which to the presenthour has remained inexplicable, would have been more slowly developed;and I should have known with greater certainty that it was the strangewoman--"
Dagobert, while listening to the missionary, was perfectly amazed; forhe also had vainly tried to account for the unexpected succor which hadfreed him and the two orphans from the prison at Leipsic.
"Of what woman do you speak?" asked Agricola.
"Of her who saved me," was the reply.
"A woman saved you from the hands of the savages?" said Dagobert.
"Yes," replied Gabriel, though absorbed in his reflections, "a woman,young and beautiful!"
"And who was this woman?" asked Agricola.
"I know not. When I asked her, she replied, 'I am the sister of thedistressed!'"
"And whence came she? Whither went she?" asked Dagobert, singularlyinterested.
"'I go wheresoever there is suffering,' she replied," answeredthe missionary; "and she departed, going towards the north ofAmerica--towards those desolate regions in which there is eternal snow,where the nights are without end."
"As in Siberia," said Dagobert, who had become very thoughtful.
"But," resumed Agricola, addressing himself to Gabriel, who seemed alsoto have become more and more absorbed, "in what manner or by what meansdid this woman come to your assistance?"
The missionary was about to reply to the last question, when there washeard a gentle tap at the door of the garret apartment, which renewedthe fears that Agricola had forgotten since the arrival of his adoptedbrother. "Agricola," said a sweet voice outside the door, "I wish tospeak with you as soon as possible."
The blacksmith recognized Mother Bunch's voice, and opened the door.But the young sempstress, instead of entering, drew back into the darkpassage, and said, with a voice of anxiety: "Agricola, it is an hoursince broad day, and you have not yet departed! How imprudent! I havebeen watching below, in the street, until now, and have seen nothingalarming; but they may come any instant to arrest you. Hasten, I conjureyou, your departure for the abode of Miss de Cardoville. Not a minuteshould be lost."
"Had it not been for the arrival of Gabriel, I should have been gone.But I could not resist the happiness of remaining some little time withhim."
"Gabriel here!" said Mother Bunch, with sweet surprise; for, as has beenstated, she had been brought up with him and Agricola.
"Yes," answered Agricola, "for half an hour he has been with my fatherand me."
"What happiness I shall have in seeing him again," said the sewing-girl."He doubtless came upstairs while I had gone for a brief space to yourmother, to ask if I could be useful in any way on account of the youngladies; but they have been so fatigued that they still sleep. Yourmother has requested me to give you this letter for your father. She hasjust received it."
"Thanks."
"Well," resumed Mother Bunch, "now that you have seen Gabriel, do notdelay long. Think what a blow it would be for your father, if they cameto arrest you in his very presence mon Dieu!"
"You are right," said Agricola; "it is indispensable that I shoulddepart--while near Gabriel in spite of my anxiety, my fears wereforgotten."
"Go quickly, then; and if Miss de Cardoville should grant this favor,perhaps in a couple of hours you will return, quite at ease both as toyourself and us."
"True! a very few minutes more; and I'll come down."
"I return to watch at the door. If I perceive anything. I'll come upagain to apprise you. But pray, do not delay."
"Be easy, good sister." Mother Bunch hurriedly descended the staircase,to resume her watch at the street door, and Agricola re-entered hisgarret. "Dear father," he said to Dagobert, "my mother has just receivedthis letter, and she requests you to read it."
"Very well; read it for me, my boy." And Agricola read as follows:
"MADAME.--I understand that your husband has been charged by GeneralSimon with an affair of very great importance. Will you, as soon as yourhusband arrives in Paris, request him to come to my office at Chartreswithout a moment's delay. I am instructed to deliver to himself, andto no other person, some documents indispensable to the interests ofGeneral Simon.
"DURAND, Notary at Chartres."
Dagobert looked at his son with astonishment, and said to him, "Who canhave told this gentleman already of my arrival in Paris?"
"Perhaps, father," said Agricola, "this is the notary to whom youtransmitted some papers, and whose address you have lost."
"But his name was not Durand; and I distinctly recollect that hisaddress was Paris, not Chartres. And, besides," said the soldier,thoughtfully, "if he has some important documents, why didn't hetransmit them to me?"
"It seems to me that you ought not to neglect going to him as soon aspossible," said Agricola, secretly rejoiced that this circumstancewould withdraw his father for about two days, during which time his(Agricola's) fate would be decided in one way or other.
"Your counsel is good," replied his father.
"This thwarts your intentions in some degree?" asked Gabriel.
"Rather, my lads; for I counted upon passing the day with you. However,'duty before everything.' Having come happily from Siberia to Paris,it is not for me to fear a journey from Paris to Chartres, when it isrequired on an affair of importance. In twice twenty-four hours I shallbe back again. But the deuce take me if I expected to leave Paris forChartres to-day. Luckily, I leave Rose and Blanche with my good wife;and Gabriel, their angel, as they call him, will be here to keep themcompany."
"That is, unfortunately, impossible," said the missionary, sadly. "Thisvisit on my arrival is also a farewell visit."
"A farewell visit! Now!" exclaimed Dagobert and Agricola both at once.
"Alas, yes!"
"You start already on another mission?" said Dagobert; "surely it is notpossible?"
"I must answer no question upon this subject," said Gabriel, suppressinga sigh: "but from now, for some time, I cannot, and ought not, comeagain into this house."
"Why, my brave boy," resumed Dagobert with emotion, "there is somethingin thy conduct that savors of constraint, of oppression. I knowsomething of men. He you call superior, whom I saw for some momentsafter the shipwreck at Cardoville Castle, has a bad look; and I am sorryto see you enrolled under such a commander."
"At Cardoville Castle!" exclaimed Agricola, struck with the identityof the name with that of the young lady of the golden hair; "was it inCardoville Castle that you were received after your shipwreck?"
"Yes, my boy; why, does that astonish you?" asked Dagobert.
"Nothing father; but were the owners of the castle there at the time?"
"No; for the steward, when I applied to him for an opportunity to returnthanks for the kind hospitality we had experienced, informed me that theperson to whom the house belonged was resident at Paris."
"What a singular coincidence," thought Agricola, "if the young ladyshould be the proprietor of the dwelling which bears her name!"
This reflection having recalled to Agricola the promise which he hadmade to Mother Bunch, he said to Dagobert; "Dear father, excuse me; butit is already late, and I ought to be in the workshop by eight o'clock."
"That is too true, my boy. Let us go. This party is adjourned till myreturn from Chartres. Embrace me once more, and take care of yourself."
Since Dagobert had spoken of constraint and oppression to Gabriel, thelatter had continued pensive. At the moment when Agricola approachedhim to shake hands, and to bid him adieu, the missionary said to himsolemnly, with a grave voice, and in a tone of decision that astonishedboth the blacksmith and the soldier: "My dear brother, one word more. Ihave come here to say to you also that within a few days hence I shallhave need of you; and of you also, my father (permit me so to callyou)," added Gabriel, with emotion, as he turned round to Dagobert.
"How! you speak thus to us!" exclaimed Agricola; "what is the matter?"
"Yes," replied Gabriel, "I need the advice and assistance of two men ofhonor--of two men of resolution;--and I can reckon upon you two--can Inot? At any hour, on whatever day it may be, upon a word from me, willyou come?"
Dagobert and his son regarded each other in silence, astonished at theaccents of the missionary. Agricola felt an oppression of the heart. Ifhe should be a prisoner when his brother should require his assistance,what could be done?
"At every hour, by night or by day, my brave boy, you may depend uponus," said Dagobert, as much surprised as interested--"You have a fatherand a brother; make your own use of them."
"Thanks, thanks," said Gabriel, "you set me quite at ease."
"I'll tell you what," resumed the soldier, "were it not for yourpriest's robe, I should believe, from the manner in which you havespoken to us, that you are about to be engaged in a duel--in a mortalcombat."
"In a duel?" said Gabriel, starting. "Yes; it may be a duel--uncommonand fearful--at which it is necessary to have two witnesses such asyou--A FATHER and A BROTHER!"
Some instants afterwards, Agricola, whose anxiety was continuallyincreasing, set off in haste for the dwelling of Mademoiselle deCardoville, to which we now beg leave to take the reader.