saddened by the irritable state of the marshal; "I cannot explain how it
happened. Spoil-sport is a good carrier, and no doubt found the letter
in the house--"

"And who can have left it there? Am I surrounded by traitors? Do you
keep no watch? You, in whom I have every confidence?"

"Listen to me, general--"

But the marshal proceeded, without waiting to hear him. "What! I have
made war for five-and-twenty years, I have battled with armies, I have
struggled victoriously through the evil times of exile and proscription,
I have withstood blows from maces of iron--and now I am to be killed
with pins! Pursued into my own house, harassed with impunity, worn out,
tortured every minute, to gratify some unknown, miserable hate!--When I
say unknown, I am wrong--it is d'Aigrigny, the renegade, who is at the
bottom of all this, I am sure. I have in the world but one enemy, and
he is the man. I must finish with him, for I am weary of this--it is too
much."

"But, general, remember he is a priest--"

"What do I care for that? Have I not seen him handle the sword? I will
yet make a soldier's blood rise to the forehead of the traitor!"

"But, general--"

"I tell you, that I must be avenged on some one," cried the marshal,
with an accent of the most violent exasperation; "I tell you, that I
mast find a living representative of these cowardly plots, that I may at
once make an end of him!--They press upon me from all sides; they make
my life a hell--you know it--and you do nothing to save me from these
tortures, which are killing me as by a slow fire. Can I have no one in
whom to trust?"

"General, I can't let you say that," replied Dagobert, in a calm, but
firm voice.

"And why not?"

"General, I can't let you say that you have no one to trust to. You
might end perhaps in believing it, and then it would be even worse for
yourself, than for those who well know their devotion for you, and would
go through fire and water to serve you. I am one of them--and you know
it."

These simple words, pronounced by Dagobert with a tone of deep
conviction, recalled the marshal to himself; for although his honorable
and generous character might from time to time be embittered by
irritation and grief, he soon recovered his natural equanimity. So,
addressing Dagobert in a less abrupt tone, he said to him, though still
much agitated: "You are right. I could never doubt your fidelity. But
anger deprives me of my senses. This infamous lett