nversation she had just had in the silence of night, with the man
whom she secretly adored, with what that conversation might have been,
had she possessed some share of charms and beauty--had she been loved as
she loved, with a chaste and devoted flame! But soon sinking into belief
that she should never know the ravishing sweets of a mutual passion, she
found consolation in the hope of being useful to Agricola. At the dawn
of day, she rose softly, and descended the staircase with little noise,
in order to see if anything menaced Agricola from without.

CHAPTER XXXII. THE AWAKENING.

The weather, damp and foggy during a portion of the night, became clear
and cold towards morning. Through the glazed skylight of Agricola's
garret, where he lay with his father, a corner of the blue sky could be
seen.

The apartment of the young blacksmith had an aspect as poor as the
sewing-girl's. For its sole ornament, over the deal table upon which
Agricola wrote his poetical inspirations, there hung suspended from a
nail in the wall a portrait of Beranger--that immortal poet whom the
people revere and cherish, because his rare and transcendent genius has
delighted to enlighten the people, and to sing their glories and their
reverses.

Although the day had only begun to dawn, Dagobert and Agricola had
already risen. The latter had sufficient self command to conceal his
inquietude, for renewed reflection had again increased his fears.

The recent outbreak in the Rue des Prouvaires had caused a great number
of precautionary arrests; and the discovery of numerous copies
of Agricola's song, in the possession of one of the chiefs of the
disconcerted plot, was, in truth, calculated slightly to compromise the
young blacksmith. His father, however, as we have already mentioned,
suspected not his secret anguish. Seated by the side of his son, upon
the edge of their mean little bed, the old soldier, by break of day,
had dressed and shaved with military care; he now held between his hands
both those of Agricola, his countenance radiant with joy, and unable to
discontinue the contemplation of his boy.

"You will laugh at me, my dear boy," said Dagobert to his son; "but I
wished the night to the devil, in order that I might gaze upon you in
full day, as I now see you. But all in good time; I have lost nothing.
Here is another silliness of mine; it delights me to see you wear
moustaches. What a splendid horse-grenadier you would have made!