world, two hearts still beat
for me with affection--yours, my Eva, and our child's!"

Rose could hardly finish this passage; for some seconds her voice was
broken by sobs. There was indeed a fatal coincidence between the fears
of General Simon and the sad reality; and what could be more touching
than these outpourings of the heart, written by the light of a watch
fire, on the eve of battle, by a soldier who thus sought to soothe the
pangs of a separation, which he felt bitterly, but knew not would be
eternal?

"Poor general! he is unaware of our misfortune," said Dagobert, after
a moment's silence; "but neither has he heard that he has two children,
instead of one. That will be at least some consolation. But come,
Blanche; do go on reading: I fear that this dwelling on grief fatigues
your sister, and she is too much affected by it. Besides, after all, it
is only just, that you should take your share of its pleasure and its
sorrow."

Blanche took the letter, and Rose, having dried her eyes, laid in her
turn her sweet head on the shoulder of her sister, who thus continued:

"I am calmer now, my dear Eva; I left off writing for a moment,
and strove to banish those black presentiments. Let us resume our
conversation! After discoursing so long about India, I will talk to
you a little of Europe. Yesterday evening, one of our people (a trusty
fellow) rejoined our outposts. He brought me a letter, which had arrived
from France at Calcutta; at length, I have news of my father, and am no
longer anxious on his account. This letter is dated in August of last
year. I see by its contents, that several other letters, to which he
alludes, have either been delayed or lost; for I had not received
any for two years before, and was extremely uneasy about him. But my
excellent father is the same as ever! Age has not weakened him; his
character is as energetic, his health as robust, as in times past--still
a workman, still proud of his order, still faithful to his austere
republican ideas, still hoping much.

"For he says to me, 'the time is at hand,' and he underlines those
words. He gives me also, as you will see, good news of the family of old
Dagobert, our friend--for in truth, my dear Eva, it soothes my grief
to think, that this excellent man is with you, that he will have
accompanied you in your exile--for I know him--a kernel of gold beneath
the rude rind of a soldier! How he must love our child!"

Here Dagobert coughed two or