table next to the knapsack."

"Well, then, as soon as the old man leaves the room, push open the
window, throw down the lamp, and if you accomplish cleverly what remains
to do--the ten florins are yours--you remember it all?"

"Yes, yes."

"The girls will be so frightened by the noise and darkness, that they
will remain dumb with terror."

"Make yourself easy! The wolf turned into a fox; why not a serpent?"

"There is yet something."

"Well, what now?"

"The roof of this shed is not very high, the window of the loft is easy
of access, the night is dark--instead of returning by the door--"

"I will come in at the window."

"Ay, and without noise."

"Like a regular snake!" and the giant departed.

"Yes!" said the Prophet to himself, after a long silence, "these means
are sure. It was not for me to hesitate. A blind and obscure instrument,
I know not the motives of the orders I have received: but from the
recommendations which accompany them--but from the position of him who
sends them--immense interests must be involved--interests connected with
all that is highest and greatest upon earth!--And yet how can these
two girls, almost beggars, how can this wretched soldier represent such
interests?--No matter," added he, with humility; "I am the arm which
acts--it is for the head, which thinks and orders, to answer for its
work."

Soon after the Prophet left the shed, carrying with him the red cloth,
and directed his steps towards the little stable that contained Jovial.
The crazy door, imperfectly secured by a latch, was easily opened. At
sight of a stranger Spoil-sport threw himself upon him; but his teeth
encountered the iron leggings of the Prophet, who, in spite of the
efforts of the dog took Jovial by his halter, threw the blanket over
his head to prevent his either seeing or smelling, and led him from the
stable into the interior of the menagerie, of which he closed the door.

CHAPTER X. THE SURPRISE.

The orphans, after reading the journal of their father, remained for
some moments silent, sad, and pensive, contemplating the leaves yellowed
by time. Dagobert, also plunged in a reverie, thought of his wife and
son, from whom he had been so long separated, and hoped soon to see
again.

The soldier was the first to break the silence, which had lasted for
several minutes. Taking the leaves from the hand of Blanche, he folded
them carefully, put them into his pocket, and thus addressed the
orphans: