the Emperor, his hero and idol--now felt himself disconcerted and
trembling before the ill-humored face of a village burgomaster. Even so,
a few hours before, he had submitted, impassive and resigned, to the
insults of the Prophet--that he might not compromise the sacred mission
with which a dying mother had entrusted him--thus showing to what a
height of heroic abnegation it is possible for a simple and honest heart
to attain.

"What have you to say in your justification? Come, be quick!" said the
judge roughly, with a yawn of impatience.

"I have not got to justify myself--I have to make a complaint, Mr.
Burgomaster," replied Dagobert in a firm voice.

"Do you think you are to teach me in what terms I am to put my
questions?" exclaimed the magistrate, in so sharp a tone that the soldier
reproached himself with having begun the interview so badly. Wishing to
pacify his judge, he made haste to answer with submission:

"Pardon me, Mr. Burgomaster, I have ill-explained my meaning. I only
wished to say that I was not wrong in this affair."

"The Prophet says the contrary."

"The Prophet?" repeated the soldier, with an air of doubt.

"The Prophet is a pious and honest man," resumed the judge, "incapable of
falsehood."

"I cannot say anything upon that subject; but you are too just, and have
too good a heart, Mr. Burgomaster, to condemn without hearing me. It is
not a man like you that would do an injustice; oh, one can see that at a
glance!"

In resigning himself thus to play the part of a courtier, Dagobert
softened as much as possible his gruff voice, and strove to give to his
austere countenance a smiling, agreeable, and flattering expression. "A
man like you," he added, with redoubled suavity of manner, "a respectable
judge like you, never shuts his ears to one side or the other."

"Ears are not in question, but eyes; and, though mine smart as if I had
rubbed them with nettles, I have seen the hand of the brute-tamer, with a
frightful wound on it."

"Yes, Mr. Burgomaster, it is very true; but consider, if he had shut his
cages and his door, all this would not have happened."

"Not so; it is your fault. You should have fastened your horse securely
to the manger."

"You are right, Mr. Burgomaster, certainly, you are right," said the
soldier, in a still more affable and conciliating voice. "It is not for a
poor devil like me to contradict you. But supposing my horse was let
loose out of pure malice, in orde