oom, as if bounding from side to side;
sometimes he stooped, as though bending beneath the weight of his anger;
sometimes, on the contrary, he paused abruptly, drew himself up to his
full height, crossed his arms upon his vigorous chest, and with raised
brow, threatening and terrible look, seemed to defy some invisible
enemy, and murmur confused exclamations. Then he stood like a man of war
and battle in all his intrepid fire.

And now he stamped angrily with his foot, approached the chimney-piece,
and pulled the bell so violently that the bell-rope remained in his
hand. A servant hastened to attend to this precipitate summons. "Did you
not tell Dagobert that I wished to speak to him?" cried the marshal.

"I executed your grace's orders, but M. Dagobert was accompanying his
son to the door, and--"

"Very well!" interrupted Marshal Simon, with an abrupt and imperious
gesture.

The servant went out, and his master continued to walk up and down with
impatient steps, crumpling, in his rage, a letter that he held in his
left hand. This letter had been innocently delivered by Spoil-sport,
who, seeing him come in, had run joyously to meet him. At length the
door opened, and Dagobert appeared. "I have been waiting for you a long
time, sirrah!" cried the marshal, in an irritated tone.

Dagobert, more pained than surprised at this burst of anger, which he
rightly attributed to the constant state of excitement in which the
marshal had now been for some time past, answered mildly: "I beg your
pardon, general, but I was letting out my son--"

"Read that, sir!" said the marshal abruptly, giving him the letter.

While Dagobert was reading it, the marshal resumed, with growing anger,
as he kicked over a chair that stood in his way: "Thus, even in my
own house, there are wretches bribed to harass me with incredible
perseverance. Well! have you read it, sir?"

"It is a fresh insult to add to the others," said Dagobert, coolly, as
he threw the letter into the fire.

"The letter is infamous--but it speaks the truth," replied the marshal.
Dagobert looked at him in amazement.

"And can you tell who brought me this infamous letter" continued the
marshal. "One would think the devil had a hand in it--for it was your
dog!"

"Spoil-sport?" said Dagobert, in the utmost surprise.

"Yes," answered the marshal, bitterly; "it is no doubt a joke of your
invention."

"I have no heart for joking, general," answered Dagobert, more and more