tionately grasping the hands
of Dagobert. "I trust that you have found her in good health."
"Yes, my brave boy!" replied Dagobert; "and her health will have become a
hundred times better, now that we are all together. Nothing is so
healthful as joy." Then addressing himself to Agricola, who, forgetting
his fear of being arrested, regarded the missionary with an expression of
ineffable affection, Dagobert added:
"Let it be remembered, that, with the soft cheek of a young girl, Gabriel
has the courage of a lion; I have already told with what intrepidity he
saved the lives of Marshal Simon's daughters, and tried to save mine
also."
"But, Gabriel! what has happened to your forehead?" suddenly exclaimed
Agricola, who for a few seconds had been attentively examining the
missionary.
Gabriel, having thrown aside his hat on entering, was now directly
beneath the skylight of the garret apartment, the bright light through
which shone upon his sweet, pale countenance: and the round scar, which
extended from one eyebrow to the other, was therefore distinctly visible.
In the midst of the powerful and diversified emotion, and of the exciting
events which so rapidly followed the shipwreck on the rocky coast near
Cardoville House, Dagobert, during the short interview he then had with
Gabriel, had not perceived the scar which seamed the forehead of the
young missionary. Now, partaking, however, of the surprise of his son,
Dagobert said:
"Aye, indeed! how came this scar upon your brow?"
"And on his hands, too; see, dear father!" exclaimed the blacksmith, with
renewed surprise, while he seized one of the hands which the young priest
held out towards him in order to tranquillize his fears.
"Gabriel, my brave boy, explain this to us!" added Dagobert; "who has
wounded you thus?" and in his turn, taking the other hand of the
missionary, he examined the scar upon it with the eye of a judge of
wounds, and then added, "In Spain, one of my comrades was found and taken
down alive from a cross, erected at the junction of several roads, upon
which the monks had crucified, and left him to die of hunger, thirst, and
agony. Ever afterwards he bore scars upon his hands, exactly similar to
this upon your hand."
"My father is right!" exclaimed Agricola. "It is evident that your hands
have been pierced through! My poor brother!" and Agricola became
grievously agitated.
"Do not think about it," said Gabriel, reddening with the embarrass
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