truggled over the sharp rocks.

This young man was Gabriel, the priest attached to the foreign mission,
the adopted son of Dagobert's wife. He was a priest and martyr--for, in
our days, there are still martyrs, as in the time when the Caesars flung
the early Christians to the lions and tigers of the circus.

Yes, in our days, the children of the people--for it is almost always
amongst them that heroic and disinterested devotion may still be
found--the children of the people, led by an honorable conviction,
because it is courageous and sincere, go to all parts of the world, to
try and propagate their faith, and brave both torture and death with the
most unpretending valor.

How many of them, victims of some barbarous tribe, have perished,
obscure and unknown, in the midst of the solitudes of the two
worlds!--And for these humble soldiers of the cross, who have nothing
but their faith and their intrepidity, there is never reserved on their
return (and they seldom do return) the rich and sumptuous dignities of
the church. Never does the purple or the mitre conceal their scarred
brows and mutilated limbs; like the great majority of other soldiers,
they die forgotten.(8)

In their ingenuous gratitude, the daughters of General Simon, as soon
as they recovered their senses after the shipwreck, and felt themselves
able to ascend the cliffs, would not leave to any other person the
care of sustaining the faltering steps of him who had rescued them from
certain death.

The black garments of Rose and Blanche streamed with water; their faces
were deadly pale, and expressive of deep grief; the marks of recent
tears were on their cheeks, and, with sad, downcast eyes, they trembled
both from agitation and cold, as the agonizing thought recurred to them,
that they should never again see Dagobert, their friend and guide; for
it was to him that Gabriel had stretched forth a helping hand, to assist
him to climb the rocks. Unfortunately the strength of both had failed,
and the soldier had been carried away by a retreating wave.

The sight of Gabriel was a fresh surprise for Rodin, who had retired on
one side, in order to observe all; but this surprise was of so pleasant
a nature, and he felt so much joy in beholding the missionary safe after
such imminent peril, that the painful impression, caused by the view
of General Simon's daughters, was a little softened. It must not
be forgotten, that the presence of Gabriel in Paris, on the 13