one thing, ma dame--of the arrival of Marshal Simon--he will be in Paris
to-day or to-morrow."

"Is it possible?" said Adrienne. Rodin started with surprise and joy.

"Yesterday evening," proceeded Dagobert, "I received a letter from the
marshal: he has landed at Havre. For three days I have taken step after
step, hoping that the orphans would be restored to me, as the
machinations of those wretches have failed." He pointed to Rodin with a
new gesture of impatience. "Well! it is not so. They are conspiring some
new infamy. I am prepared for anything."

"But, sir," said Rodin advancing, "permit me--"

"Begone!" cried Dagobert, whose irritation and anxiety redoubled, as he
thought how at any moment Marshal Simon might arrive in Paris. "Begone!
Were it not for this lady, I would at least be revenged on some one."

Rodin made a nod of intelligence to Adrienne, whom he approached
prudently, and, pointing to Dagobert with a gesture of affectionate
commiseration, he said to the latter: "I will leave you, sir, and the
more willingly, as I was about to withdraw when you entered." Then,
coming still closer to Mdlle. de Cardoville, the Jesuit whispered to her,
"Poor soldier! he is beside himself with grief, and would be incapable of
hearing me. Explain it all to him, my dear young lady; he will be nicely
caught," added he, with a cunning air. "But in the meantime," resumed
Rodin, feeling in the side-pocket of his great-coat and taking out a
small parcel, "let me beg you to give him this, my dear young lady. It is
my revenge, and a very good one."

And while Adrienne, holding the little parcel in her hand looked at the
Jesuit with astonishment, the latter laying his forefinger upon his lip,
as if recommending silence, drew backward on tiptoe to the door, and went
out after again pointing to Dagobert with a gesture of pity; while the
soldier, in sullen dejection, with his head drooping, and his arms
crossed upon his bosom, remained deaf to the sewing-girl's earnest
consolations. When Rodin had left the room, Adrienne, approaching the
soldier, said to him, in her mild voice, with an expression of deep
interest, "Your sudden entry prevented my asking you a question that
greatly concerns me. How is your wound?"

"Thank you, madame," said Dagobert, starting from his painful lethargy,
"it is of no consequence, but I have not time to think of it. I am sorry
to have been so rough in your presence, and to have driven away that
wret