presently. You will see why."

"Had our father been long in India?"

"I gathered from the few words which your mother said, that the general
had gone to that country, after fighting for the Greeks against the
Turks--for he always liked to side with the weak against the strong.
In India he made fierce war against the English, they had murdered our
prisoners in pontoons, and tortured the Emperor at St. Helena, and the
war was a doubly good one, for in harming them he served a just cause."

"What cause did he serve then?"

"That of one of the poor native princes, whose territories the English,
lay waste, till the day when they can take possession of them against
law and right. You see, my children, it was once more the weak against
the strong, and your father did not miss this opportunity. In a few
months he had so well-trained and disciplined the twelve or fifteen
thousand men of the prince, that, in two encounters, they cut to pieces
the English sent against them, and who, no doubt, had in their reckoning
left out your brave father, my children. But come, you shall read some
pages of his journal, which will tell you more and better than I
can. Moreover, you will find in them a name which you ought always to
remember; that's why I chose this passage."

"Oh, what happiness! To read the pages written by our father, is almost
to hear him speak," said Rose.

"It is as if he were close beside us," added Blanche.

And the girls stretched out their hands with eagerness, to catch hold
of the leaves that Dagobert had taken from his pocket. Then, by a
simultaneous movement, full of touching grace, they pressed the writing
of their father in silence to their lips.

"You will see also, my children, at the end of this letter, why I
was surprised that your guardian angel, as you say, should be called
Gabriel. Read, read," added the soldier, observing the puzzled air of
the orphans. "Only I ought to tell you that, when he wrote this,
the general had not yet fallen in with the traveller who brought the
papers."

Rose, sitting up in her bed, took the leaves, and began to read in a
soft and trembling voice, Blanche, with her head resting on her sister's
shoulder, followed attentively every word. One could even see, by
the slight motion of her lips, that she too was reading, but only to
herself.

CHAPTER VIII. EXTRACTS FROM GENERAL SIMON'S DIARY.

Bivouac on the Mountains of Avers February the 20th, 1830.

"Each time I