t this cross is to me?"

"On the contrary, supposing you would set great store by it, I intended
to have the pleasure of delivering it myself. I had brought it for that
purpose; but, between ourselves, you gave me so warm a reception, that I
had not the time--"

"Sir," said Dagobert, in confusion, "I assure you that I sincerely repent
of what I have done."

"I know it, my good friend; do not say another word about it. You were
then much attached to this cross?"

"Attached to it, sir!" cried Dagobert. "Why, this cross," and he kissed
it as he spoke, "is my relic. He from whom it came was my saint--my
hero--and he had touched it with his hand!"

"Oh!" said Rodin, feigning to regard the cross with as much curiosity as
respectful admiration; "did Napoleon--the Great Napoleon--indeed touch
with his own hand--that victorious hand!--this noble star of honor?"

"Yes, sir, with his own hand. He placed it there upon my bleeding breast,
as a cure for my fifth wound. So that, you see, were I dying of hunger, I
think I should not hesitate betwixt bread and my cross--that I might, in
any case, have it on my heart in death. But, enough--enough! let us talk
of something else. It is foolish in an old soldier, is it not?" added
Dagobert, drawing his hand across his eyes, and then, as if ashamed to
deny what he really felt: "Well, then! yes," he resumed, raising his head
proudly, and no longer seeking to conceal the tears that rolled down his
cheek; "yes, I weep for joy, to have found my cross--my cross, that the
Emperor gave me with his victorious hand, as this worthy man has called
it."

"Then blessed be my poor old hand for having restored you the glorious
treasure!" said Rodin, with emotion. "In truth," he added, "the day will
be a good one for everybody--as I announced to you this morning in my
letter."

"That letter without a signature?" asked the soldier, more and more
astonished. "Was it from you?"

"It was I who wrote it. Only, fearing some new snare of the Abbe
d'Aigrigny, I did not choose, you understand, to explain myself more
clearly."

"Then--I shall see--my orphans?"

Rodin nodded affirmatively, with an expression of great good-nature.

"Presently--perhaps immediately," said Adrienne, with smile. "Well! was I
right in telling you that you had not judged this gentleman fairly?"

"Why did he not tell me this when I came in?" cried Dagobert, almost
beside himself with joy.

"There was one difficulty in the wa