e heart, so it
was; we insist upon this singularity, because the consequences of these
incessant and painful regrets exercised a great influence on the
future life of Marshal Simon. Adrienne and Dagobert had respected the
overwhelming grief of this unfortunate man. When he had given a free
course to his tears, he raised his manly countenance, now of marble
paleness, drew his hand across his blood-shot eyes, rose, and said to
Adrienne, "Pardon me, madame; I could not conquer my first emotion.
Permit me to retire. I have cruel details to ask of the worthy friend
who only quitted my wife at the last moment. Have the kindness to let
me see my children--my poor orphans!--" And the marshal's voice again
broke.

"Marshal," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, "just now we were expecting your
dear children: unfortunately, we have been deceived in our hopes."
Pierre Simon first looked at Adrienne without answering, as if he had
not heard or understood.--"But console yourself," resumed the young
girl; "we have yet no reason to despair."

"To despair?" repeated the marshaling by turns at Mdlle. de Cardoville
despair?--"of what, in heaven's name?"

"Of seeing your children, marshal," said Adrienne; "the presence of
their father will facilitate the search."

"The search!" cried Pierre Simon. "Then, my daughters are not here?"

"No, sir," said Adrienne, at length; "they have been taken from the
affectionate care of the excellent man who brought them from Russia, to
be removed to a convent."

"Wretch!" cried Pierre Simon, advancing towards Dagobert, with a
menacing and terrible aspect; "you shall answer to me for all!"

"Oh, sir, do not blame him!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville.

"General," said Dagobert, in a tone of mournful resignation, "I merit
your anger. It is my fault. Forced to absent myself from Paris, I
entrusted the children to my wife; her confessor turned her head, and
persuaded her that your daughters would be better in a convent than at
our house. She believed him, and let them be conveyed there. Now they
say at the convent, that they do not know where they are. This is the
truth: do what you will with me; I have only to silently endure."

"This is infamous!" cried Pierre Simon, pointing to Dagobert, with a
gesture of despairing indignation. "In whom can a man confide, if he has
deceived me? Oh, my God!"

"Stay, marshal! do not blame him," repeated Mdlle. de Cardoville; "do
not think so! He has risked life and honor to r