rried them further on to a place where
the sand was quite dry. While we were busy about this, we saw the head of
a man appear from behind one of the rocks, which he was trying to climb,
clinging to it by one hand; we ran to him, and luckily in the nick of
time, for he was clean worn out, and fell exhausted into the arms of our
men. It was of him I spoke when I talked of a hero; for, not content with
having saved the two young girls by his admirable courage, he had
attempted to rescue a third person, and had actually gone back amongst
the rocks and breakers--but his strength failed him, and, without the aid
of our men, he would certainly have been washed away from the ridge to
which he clung."

"He must indeed be a fine fellow!" said Catherine.

Rodin, with his head bowed upon his breast, seemed quite indifferent to
this conversation. The dismay and stupor, in which he had been plunged,
only increased upon reflection. The two girls, who had just been saved,
were fifteen years of age; were dressed in mourning; were so like, that
one might be taken for the other; one of them wore round her neck a chain
with a bronze medal; he could scarcely doubt that they were the daughters
of General Simon. But how could those sisters be amongst the number of
shipwrecked passengers? How could they have escaped from the prison at
Leipsic? How did it happen, that he had not been informed of it? Could
they have fled, or had they been set at liberty? How was it possible that
he should not be apprise of such an event? But these secondary thoughts,
which offered themselves in crowds to the mind of M. Rodin, were
swallowed up in the one fact: "the daughters of General Simon are
here!"--His plan, so laboriously laid, was thus entirely destroyed.

"When I speak of the deliverer of these young girls," resumed the
bailiff, addressing his wife, and without remarking M. Rodin's absence of
mind, "you are expecting no doubt to see a Hercules?--well, he is
altogether the reverse. He is almost a boy in look, with fair, sweet
face, and light, curling locks. I left him a cloak to cover him, for he
had nothing on but his shirt, black knee-breeches, and a pair of black
worsted stockings--which struck me as singular."

"Why, it was certainly not a sailor's dress."

"Besides, though the ship was English, I believe my hero is a Frenchman,
for he speaks our language as well as we do. What brought the tears to my
eyes, was to see the young girls, when they ca