siness at these words, which she had heard by
mere chance, Mother Bunch approached the porter's lodge, and asked him
to open the outer gate.

"Where do you come from?" challenged the porter, leaning half way out
of his lodge, with a double barrelled gun, which he was occupied in
loading, in his hand, and at the same time examining the sempstress with
a suspicious air.

"I come from speaking to the superior," answered Mother Bunch timidly.

"Is that true?" said Nicholas roughly. "You look like a sanctified
scarecrow. Never mind. Make haste and cut!"

The gate opened, and Mother Bunch went out. Hardly had she gone a few
steps in the sweet, when, to her great surprise, she saw the dog Spoil
sport run up to her, and his master, Dagobert, a little way behind him,
arriving also with precipitation. She was hastening to meet the soldier,
when a full, sonorous voice exclaimed from a little distance: "Oh my
good sister!" which caused the girl to turn round. From the opposite
side to that whence Dagobert was coming, she saw Agricola hurrying
towards the spot.

CHAPTER IX. THE ENCOUNTERS.

At the sight of Dagobert and Agricola, Mother Bunch remained motionless
with surprise, a few steps from the convent-gate. The soldier had not
yet perceived the sempstress. He advanced rapidly, following the dog,
who though lean, half-starved, rough-coated, and dirty, seemed to frisk
with pleasure, as he turned his intelligent face towards his master, to
whom he had gone back, after caressing Mother Bunch.

"Yes, yes; I understand you, old fellow!" said the soldier, with
emotion. "You are more faithful than I was; you did not leave the dear
children for a minute. Yes, you followed them, and watched day and
night, without food, at the door of the house to which they were
taken--and, at length, weary of waiting to see them come forth, ran home
to fetch me. Yes; whilst I was giving way to despair, like a furious
madman, you were doing what I ought to have done--discovering their
retreat. What does it all prove? Why, that beasts are better than
men--which is well known. Well, at length I shall see them again. When
I think that tomorrow is the 13th, and that without you, my did
Spoil-sport, all would be lost--it makes me shudder. But I say, shall we
soon be there? What a deserted quarter! and night coming on!"

Dagobert had held this discourse to Spoil-sport, as he walked along
following the good dog, who kept on at a rapid pace. Suddenl