so much difficulty, it was that his
wounds had reopened, as he struggled 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