d all the blue eyes and
fair locks in the world must come in by one of those two ways--and, if
they had tried it, the dog and I, who have both of us quick ears, would
have received their visits after our fashion. But come, children! pray,
speak to the purpose. Explain yourselves!"

The two sisters, who saw, by the expression of Dagobert's countenance,
that he felt really uneasy, determined no longer to trifle with his
kindness. They exchanged a glance, and Rose, taking in her little hand
the coarse, broad palm of the veteran, said to him: "Come, do not plague
yourself! We will tell you all about the visits of our friend, Gabriel."

"There you are again!--He has a name, then?"

"Certainly, he has a name. It is Gabriel."

"Is it not a pretty name, Dagobert? Oh, you will see and love, as we do,
our beautiful Gabriel!"

"I'll love your beautiful Gabriel, will I?" said the veteran, shaking his
head--"Love your beautiful Gabriel?--that's as it may be. I must first
know--" Then, interrupting himself, he added: "It is queer. That reminds
me of something."

"Of what, Dagobert?"

"Fifteen years ago, in the last letter that your father, on his return
from France, brought me from my wife: she told me that, poor as she was,
and with our little growing Agricola on her hands, she had taken in a
poor deserted child, with the face of a cherub, and the name of
Gabriel--and only a short time since I heard of him again."

"And from whom, then?"

"You shall know that by and by."

"Well, then--since you have a Gabriel of your own--there is the more
reason that you should love ours."

"Yours! but who is yours? I am on thorns till you tell me."

"You know, Dagobert," resumed Rose, "that Blanche and I are accustomed to
fall asleep, holding each other by the hand."

"Yes, yes, I have often seen you in your cradle. I was never tired of
looking at you; it was so pretty."

"Well, then--two nights ago, we had just fallen asleep, when we beheld--"

"Oh, it was in a dream!" cried Dagobert. "Since you were asleep, it was
in a dream!"

"Certainly, in a dream--how else would you have it?"

"Pray let my sister go on with her tale!"

"All, well and good!" said the soldier with a sigh of satisfaction; "well
and good! To be sure, I was tranquil enough in any case--because--but
still--I like it better to be a dream. Continue, my little Rose."

"Once asleep, we both dreamt the same thing."

"What! both the same?"

"Yes, Dagobert; for