Our master will do that for you. I swear for him, and who can say that
Parpon was ever a liar?"

The blacksmith's hand tightened on his daughter's shoulder. He was
trembling with excitement.

"Is it true? is it true?" he asked, and the sweat stood out on his
forehead.

"He sends this for Madelinette," answered the dwarf, handing over a
little bag of gold to the girl, who drew back. But Parpon went close to
her, and gently forced it into her hands.

"Open it," he said. She did so, and the blacksmith's eyes gloated on
the gold. Muroc and Duclosse drew near, and peered in also. And so they
stood there for a little while, all looking and exclaiming.

Presently Lajeunesse scratched his head. "Nobody does nothing for
nothing," said he. "What horse do I shoe for this?"

"La, la!" said the charcoalman, sticking a thumb in the blacksmith's
side; "you only give him the happy hand--like that!"

Duclosse was more serious. "It is the will of God that you become a
marshal or a duke," he said wheezingly to the blacksmith. "You can't say
no; it is the will of God, and you must bear it like a man."

The child saw further; perhaps the artistic strain in her gave her
keener reasoning.

"Father," she said, "Monsieur Valmond wants you for a soldier."

"Wants me?" he roared in astonishment. "Who's to shoe the horses a week
days, and throw the weight o' Sundays after mass? Who's to handle a
stick for the Cure when there's fighting among the river-men?

"But there, la, la! many a time my wife, my good Florienne, said to
me, 'Jose--Jose Lajeunesse, with a chest like yours, you ought to be a
corporal at least.'"

Parpon beckoned to Lagroin, and nodded. "Corporal! corporal!" cried
Lagroin; "in a week you shall be a lieutenant and a month shall make you
a captain, and maybe better than that!"

"Better than that--bagosh!" cried the charcoalman in surprise, proudly
using the innocuous English oath. "Better than that--sutler, maybe?"
said the mealman, smacking his lips.

"Better than that," replied Lagroin, swelling with importance. "Ay, ay,
my dears, great things are for you. I command the army, and I have free
hand from my master. Ah, what joy to serve a Napoleon once again! What
joy! Lord, how I remember--"

"Better than that-eh?" persisted Duclosse, perspiring, the meal on his
face making a sort of paste.

"A general or a governor, my children," said Lagroin. "First in, first
served. Best men, best pickings. But every man must