hands, raised their innocent looks to heaven, and
exclaimed, with that beautiful faith natural to their age: "Is it not so,
mother?--thou seest us?--thou hearest us?"

"Since your mother sees and hears you," said Dagobert, much moved, "do
not grieve her by fretting. She forbade you to do so."

"You are right, Dagobert. We will not cry any more."--And the orphans
dried their eyes.

Dagobert, in the opinion of the devout, would have passed for a very
heathen. In Spain, he had found pleasure in cutting down those monks of
all orders and colors, who, bearing crucifix in one hand, and poniard in
the other, fought not for liberty--the Inquisition had strangled her
centuries ago--but, for their monstrous privileges. Yet, in forty years,
Dagobert had witnessed so many sublime and awful scenes--he had been so
many times face to face with death--that the instinct of natural
religion, common to every simple, honest heart, had always remained
uppermost in his soul. Therefore, though he did not share in the
consoling faith of the two sisters, he would have held as criminal any
attempt to weaken its influence.

Seeing them this downcast, he thus resumed: "That's right, my pretty
ones: I prefer to hear you chat as you did this morning and
yesterday--laughing at times, and answering me when I speak, instead of
being so much engrossed with your own talk. Yes, yes, my little ladies!
you seem to have had famous secrets together these last two days--so,
much the better, if it amuses you."

The sisters colored, and exchanged a subdued smile, which contrasted with
the tears that yet filled their eyes, and Rose said to the soldier, with
a little embarrassment. "No, I assure you, Dagobert, we talk of nothing
in particular."

"Well, well; I don't wish to know it. Come, rest yourselves, a few
moments more, and then we must start again; for it grows late, and we
have to reach Mockern before night, so that we may be early on the road
to-morrow."

"Have we still a long, long way to go?" asked Rose.

"What, to reach Paris? Yes, my children; some hundred days' march. We
don't travel quick, but we get on; and we travel cheap, because we have a
light purse. A closet for you, a straw mattress and a blanket at your
door for me, with Spoil-sport on my feet, and a clean litter for old
Jovial, these are our whole traveling expenses. I say nothing about food,
because you two together don't eat more than a mouse, and I have learnt
in Egypt and Spai