d then this sad scene,
when the profound silence has restored me to my senses from the thirst
for bloodshed and the delirious whirling of my sword (intoxicated
like the rest), I have said to myself, 'for what have these men been
killed?--FOR WHAT--FOR WHAT?' But this feeling, well understood as it
was, hindered me not, on the following morning, when the trumpets again
sounded the charge, from rushing once more to the slaughter. But the
same thought always recurred when my arm became weary with carnage; and
after wiping my sabre upon the mane of my horse, I have said to myself,
'I have killed!--killed!!--killed!!! and, FOR WHAT!!!'"

The missionary and the blacksmith exchanged looks on hearing the old
soldier give utterance to this singular retrospection of the past.

"Alas!" said Gabriel to him, "all generous hearts feel as you did during
the solemn moments, when the intoxication of glory has subsided, and
man is left alone to the influence of the good instincts planted in his
bosom."

"And that should prove, my brave boy," rejoined Dagobert, "that you are
greatly better than I; for those noble instincts, as you call them, have
never abandoned you. * * * * But how the deuce did you escape from the
claws of the infuriated savages who had already crucified you?"

At this question of Dagobert, Gabriel started and reddened so visibly,
that the soldier said to him: "If you ought not or cannot answer my
request, let us say no more about it."

"I have nothing to conceal, either from you or from my brother," replied
the missionary with altered voice. "Only; it will be difficult for me to
make you comprehend what I cannot comprehend myself."

"How is that?" asked Agricola with surprise.

"Surely," said Gabriel, reddening more deeply, "I must have been
deceived by a fallacy of my senses, during that abstracted moment in
which I awaited death with resignation. My enfeebled mind, in spite of
me, must have been cheated by an illusion; or that, which to the present
hour has remained inexplicable, would have been more slowly developed;
and I should have known with greater certainty that it was the strange
woman--"

Dagobert, while listening to the missionary, was perfectly amazed; for
he also had vainly tried to account for the unexpected succor which had
freed him and the two orphans from the prison at Leipsic.

"Of what woman do you speak?" asked Agricola.

"Of her who saved me," was the reply.

"A woman saved you from