any other place. Once is not always."

"But, M. Dagobert, they are confined against their will and against
yours. They will not give them up."

"They will not give them up? Zounds! we will see about that." And he
made a step towards the street.

"Father," said Agricola, holding him back, "one moment's patience; let
us hear all."

"I will hear nothing. What! the children are there--two steps from me--I
know it--and I shall not have them, either by fair means or foul? Oh!
that would indeed be curious. Let me go."

"Listen to me, I beseech you, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch, taking
his hand: "there is another way to deliver these poor children. And that
without violence--for violence, as Mdlle. de Cardoville told me, would
ruin all."

"If there is any other way--quick--let me know it!"

"Here is a ring of Mdlle. de Cardoville's."

"And who is this Mdlle. de Cardoville?"

"Father," said Agricola, "it is the generous young lady, who offered to
be my bail, and to whom I have very important matters to communicate."

"Good, good," replied Dagobert; "we will talk of that presently. Well,
my dear girl--this ring?"

"You must take it directly, M. Dagobert, to the Count de Montbron,
No. 7, Place Vendome. He appears to be a person of influence, and is a
friend of Mdlle. de Cardoville's. This ring will prove that you come on
her behalf, and you will tell him, that she is confined as a lunatic in
the asylum next door to this convent, in which the daughters of Marshal
Simon are detained against their will."

"Well, well--what next?"

"Then the Count de Montbron will take the proper steps with persons in
authority, to restore both Mdlle. de Cardoville and the daughters of
Marshal Simon to liberty--and perhaps, to-morrow, or the day after--"

"To-morrow or the day after!" cried Dagobert; "perhaps?--It is to-day,
on the instant, that I must have them. The day after to-morrow would be
of much use! Thanks, my good girl, but keep your ring: I will manage my
own business. Wait for me here, my boy."

"What are you going to do, father?" cried Agricola, still holding back
the soldier. "It is a convent, remember."

"You are only a raw recruit; I have my theory of convents at my fingers'
end. In Spain, I have put it in practice a hundred times. Here is what
will happen. I knock; a portress opens the door to me; she asks me what
I want, but I make no answer; she tries to stop me, but I pass on; once
in the convent, I walk ove