to meet Agricola. Dagobert had not seen his son for some days. Embracing
him cordially, he led him into one of the rooms on the ground floor,
which he usually occupied. "And how is your wife?" said the soldier to
his son.

"She is well, father, thank you."

Perceiving a great change in Agricola's countenance, Dagobert resumed:
"You look sad. Has anything gone wrong since I saw you last?"

"All is over, father. We have lost him," said the smith, in a tone of
despair.

"Lost whom?"

"M. Hardy."

"M. Hardy!--why, three days ago, you told me you were going to see him."

"Yes, father, I have seen him--and my dear brother Gabriel saw him
and spoke to him--how he speaks! with a voice that comes from the
heart!--and he had so revived and encouraged him, that M. Hardy
consented to return amongst us. Then I, wild with joy, ran to tell the
good news to some of my mates, who were waiting to hear the result of
nay interview with M. Hardy. I brought them all with me to thank and
bless him. We were within a hundred yards of the house belonging to the
black-gowns--"

"Ali, the black-gowns!" said Dagobert, with a gloomy air. "Then some
mischief will happen. I know them."

"You are not mistaken, father," answered Agricola, with a sigh. "I was
running on with my comrades, when I saw a carriage coming towards us.
Some presentiment told me that they were taking away M. Hardy."

"By force!" said Dagobert, hastily.

"No," answered Agricola, bitterly; "no--the priests are too cunning for
that. They know how to make you an accomplice in the evil they do you.
Shall I not always remember how they managed with my good mother?"

"Yes, the worthy woman! there was a poor fly caught in the spider's web.
But this carriage, of which you speak?"

"On seeing it start from the house of the black-gowns," replied
Agricola, "my heart sank within me; and, by an impulse stronger than
myself, I rushed to the horses' heads, calling on my comrades to help
me. But the postilion knocked me down and stunned me with a blow from
his whip. When I recovered my senses, the carriage was already far
away."

"You were not hurt?" cried Dagobert, anxiously, as he examined his son
from top to toe.

"No, father; a mere scratch."

"What did you next, my boy?"

"I hastened to our good angel, Mdlle. de Cardoville, and told her all.
'You must follow M. Hardy on the instant,' said she to me. 'Take my
carriage and post-horses. Dupont will accompany you; follow