she could not ask you, my dear young lady, to interest yourself about her.'
As Mdlle. de Cardoville looked at Rodin with astonishment, he added, again speaking to the hunchback: 'Is not that true, my dear girl!'
'Yes, sir,' said the sempstress, casting down her eyes and blushing. Then she added, hastily and anxiously: 'But when did you see my sister, sir? where is she? how did she fall into distress?'
'All that would take too long to tell you, my dear girl; but go as soon as possible to the greengrocer's in the Rue Clovis, and ask to speak to your sister as from M. Charlemagne or M. Rodin, which you please, for I am equally well known in that house by my Christian name as by my surname, and then you will learn all about it. Only tell your sister, that, if she behaves well, and keeps to her good resolutions, there are some who will continue to look after her.'
More and more surprised, Mother Bunch was about to answer Rodin, when the door opened, and M. de Gernande entered. The countenance of the magistrate was grave and sad.
'Marshal Simon's daughters!' cried Mdlle. de Cardoville.
'Unfortunately, they are not with me,' answered the judge.
'Then, where are they, sir? What have they done with them? The day before yesterday, they were in the convent!' cried Dagobert, overwhelmed by this complete destruction of his hopes.
Hardly had the soldier pronounced these words, when, profiting by the impulse which gathered all the actors in this scene about the magistrate, Rodin withdrew discreetly towards the door, and disappeared without any one perceiving his absence. Whilst the soldier, thus suddenly thrown back to the depths of his despair, looked at M. de Gernande, waiting with anxiety for the answer, Adrienne said to the magistrate: 'But, sir, when you applied at the convent, what explanation did the superior give on the subject of these young girls?'
'The lady superior refused to give any explanation, madame. 'You pretend,' said she, 'that the young persons of whom you speak are detained here against their will. Since the law gives you the right of entering this house, make your search.' 'But, madame, please to answer me positively,' said I to the superior; 'do you declare, that you know nothing of the young girls, whom I have come to claim?' 'I have nothing to say on this subject, sir. You assert, that you are authorized to make a search: make it.' Not being able to get any other explanation,' continued the magistrate, 'I searched all parts of the convent, and had every door opened—but, unfortunately, I could find no trace of these young ladies.'
'They must have sent them elsewhere,' cried Dagobert; 'who knows?—perhaps, ill. They will kill them—O God! they will kill them!' cried he, in a heart-rending tone.
'After such a refusal, what is to be done? Pray, sir, give us your advice; you are our providence,' said Adrienne, turning to speak to Rodin, who she fancied was behind her. 'What is your—'
Then, perceiving that the Jesuit had suddenly disappeared, she said to Mother Bunch, with uneasiness: 'Where is M. Rodin?'
'I do not know, madame,' answered the girl, looking round her; 'he is no longer here.'
'It is strange,' said Adrienne, 'to disappear so abruptly!'
'I told you he was a traitor!' cried Dagobert, stamping with rage; 'they are all in a plot together.'
'No, no,' said Mdlle. de Cardoville; 'do not think that. But the absence is not the less to be regretted, for, under these difficult circumstances, he might have given us very useful information, thanks to the position he occupied at M. d'Aigrigny's.'
'I confess, madame, that I rather reckoned upon it,' said M. de Gernande; 'and I returned hither, not only to inform you of the fruitless result of my search, but also to seek from the upright and honorable roan, who so courageously unveiled these odious machinations, the aid of his counsels in this contingency.'
Strangely enough, for the last few moments Dagobert was so completely absorbed in thought, that he paid no attention to the words of the magistrate, however important to him. He did not even perceive the departure of M. de Gernande, who retired after promising Adrienne that he would neglect no means to arrive at the truth, in regard to the disappearance of the orphans. Uneasy at this silence, wishing to quit the house immediately, and induce Dagobert to accompany her, Adrienne, after exchanging a rapid glance with Mother Bunch, was advancing towards the soldier, when hasty steps were heard from without the chamber, and a manly sonorous voice, exclaiming with impatience, 'Where is he—where is he?'
At the sound of this voice, Dagobert seemed to rouse himself with a start, made a sudden bound, and with a loud cry, rushed towards the door. It opened. Marshal Simon appeared on the threshold!
CHAPTER XXXIX. PIERRE SIMON.
Marshal Pierre Simon, Duke de Ligny, was a man of tall stature, plainly dressed in a blue frock-coat, buttoned up to the throat, with a red ribbon tied to the top buttonhole. You could not have wished to see a more frank, honest, and chivalrous cast of countenance than the marshal's. He had a broad forehead, an aquiline nose, a well formed chin, and a complexion bronzed by exposure to the Indian sun. His hair, cut very short, was inclined to gray about the temples; but his eyebrows were still as black as his large, hanging moustache. His walk was free and bold, and his decided movements showed his military impetuosity. A man of the people, a man of war and action, the frank cordiality of his address invited friendliness and sympathy. As enlightened as he was intrepid as generous as he was sincere, his manly, plebeian pride was the most remarkable part of his character. As others are proud of their high birth, so was he of his obscure origin, because it was ennobled by the fine qualities of his father, the rigid republican, the intelligent and laborious artisan, who, for the space of forty years, had been the example and the glory of his fellow-workmen. In accepting with gratitude the aristocratic title which the Emperor had bestowed upon him, Pierre Simon acted with that delicacy which receives from a friendly hand a perfectly useless gift, and estimates it according to the intention of the giver. The religious veneration of Pierre Simon for the Emperor had never been blind; in proportion as his devotion and love for his idol were instructive and necessary, his admiration was serious, and founded upon reason. Far from resembling those swashbucklers who love fighting for its own sake, Marshal Simon not only admired his hero as the greatest captain in the world, but he admired him, above all, because he knew that the Emperor had only accepted war in the hope of one day being able to dictate universal peace; for if peace obtained by glory and strength is great, fruitful, and magnificent, peace yielded by weakness and cowardice is sterile, disastrous, and dishonoring. The son of a workman, Pierre Simon still further admired the Emperor, because that imperial parvenu had always known how to make that popular heart beat nobly, and, remembering the people, from the masses of whom he first arose, had invited them fraternally to share in regal and aristocratic pomp.
When Marshal Simon entered the room, his countenance was much agitated. At sight of Dagobert, a flash of joy illumined his features; he rushed towards the soldier, extending his arms, and exclaimed, 'My friend! my old friend!'
Dagobert answered this affectionate salute with silent emotion. Then the marshal, disengaging himself from his arms, and fixing his moist eyes upon him, said to him in so agitated a voice that his lips trembled, 'Well, didst arrive in time for the 13th of February?'
'Yes, general; but everything is postponed for four months.'
'And—my wife?—my child?' At this question Dagobert shuddered, hung down his head, and was silent.
'They are not, then, here?' asked Simon, with more surprise than uneasiness. 'They told me they were not at your house, but that I should find you here—and I came immediately. Are they not with you?'
'General,' said Dagobert, becoming deadly pale; 'general—' Drying the drops of cold sweat that stood upon his forehead, he was unable to articulate a word, for his voice was checked in his parched throat.
'You frighten me!' exclaimed Pierre Simon, becoming pale as the soldier, and seizing him by the arm.
At this, Adrienne advanced, with a countenance full of grief and sympathy; seeing the cruel embarrassment of Dagobert, she wished to come to his assistance, and she said to Pierre Simon, in a mild but agitated voice, 'Marshal, I am Mdlle. de Cardoville—a relation of your dear children.'
Pierre Simon turned around suddenly, as much struck with the dazzling beauty of Adrienne as with the words she had just pronounced. He stammered out in his surprise, 'You, madame—a relation—of my children!'
He laid a stress on the last words, and looked at Dagobert in a kind of stupor.
'Yes, marshal your children,' hastily replied Adrienne; 'and the love of those charming twin sisters—'
'Twin sisters!' cried Pierre Simon, interrupting Mdlle. de Cardoville, with an outburst of joy impossible to describe. 'Two daughters instead of one! Oh! what happiness for their mother! Pardon me, madame, for being so impolite,' he continued; 'and so little grateful for what you tell me. But you will understand it; I have been
