y, 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