agobert."

"Eight o'clock," said the soldier, speaking to himself; "only eight!"

Placing the pistols by the side of the iron bar, he appeared again to
reflect, while he cast his eyes around him.

"M. Dagobert," ventured the girl, "you have not, then, good news?"

"No."

That single word was uttered by the soldier in so sharp a tone, that, not
daring to question him further, Mother Bunch sat down in silence. Spoil
sport came to lean his head on the knees of the girl, and followed the
movements of Dagobert with as much curiosity as herself.

After remaining for some moments pensive and silent, the soldier
approached the bed, took a sheet from it, appeared to measure its length,
and then said, turning towards Mother Bunch: "The scissors!"

"But, M. Dagobert--"

"Come, my good girl! the scissors!" replied Dagobert, in a kind tone, but
one that commanded obedience. The sempstress took the scissors from
Frances' work-basket, and presented them to the soldier.

"Now, hold the other end of the sheet, my girl, and draw it out tight."

In a few minutes, Dagobert had cut the sheet into four strips, which he
twisted in the fashion of cords, fastening them here and there with bits
of tape, so as to preserve the twist, and tying them strongly together,
so as to make a rope of about twenty feet long. This, however, did not
suffice him, for he said to himself: "Now I must have a hook."

Again he looked around him, and Mother Bunch, more and more frightened,
for she now no longer doubted Dagobert's designs, said to him timidly:
"M. Dagobert, Agricola has not yet come in. It may be some good news that
makes him so late."

"Yes," said the soldier, bitterly, as he continued to cast round his eyes
in search of something he wanted; "good news like mine! But I must have a
strong iron hook."

Still looking about, he found one of the coarse, gray sacks, that Frances
was accustomed to make. He took it, opened it, and said to the work girl:
"Put me the iron bar and the cord into this bag, my girl. It will be
easier to carry."

"Heavens!" cried she, obeying his directions; "you will not go without
seeing Agricola, M. Dagobert? He may perhaps have some good news to tell
you."

"Be satisfied! I shall wait for my boy. I need not start before ten
o'clock--so I have time."

"Alas, M. Dagobert! have you last all hope?"

"On the contrary. I have good hope--but in myself."

So saying, Dagobert twisted the upper end of the sack, for