"Listen to me, wife," resumed Dagobert in a broken voice, interrupted by
involuntary starts, which betrayed the boiling impatience he could hardly
restrain. "Understand me--this cannot pass over in this manner--you know.
I will never use violence towards you--just now, I gave way to a first
moment of hastiness--I am sorry for it. Be sure, I shall not do so again:
but, after all, I must know what has become of these children. Their
mother entrusted them to my care, and I did not bring them all the way
from Siberia, for you to say to me: 'Do not ask me--I cannot tell you
what I have done with them.' There is no reason in that. Suppose Marshal
Simon were to arrive, and say to me, 'Dagobert, my children?' what answer
am I to give him? See, I am calm--judge for yourself--I am calm--but just
put yourself in my place, and tell me--what answer am I to give to the
marshal? Well--what say you! Will you speak!"
"Alas! my dear--"
"It is of no use crying alas!" said the soldier wiping his forehead, on
which the veins were swollen as if they would burst; "what am I to answer
to the marshal?"
"Accuse me to him--I will bear it all--I will say--"
"What will you say?"
"That, on going out, you entrusted the two girls to me, and that not
finding them on return you asked be about them--and that my answer was,
that I could not tell you what had become of them."
"And you think the marshal will be satisfied with such reasons?" cried
Dagobert, clinching his fists convulsively upon his knees.
"Unfortunately, I can give no other--either to him or you--no--not if I
were to die for it."
Dagobert bounded from his chair at this answer, which was given with
hopeless resignation. His patience was exhausted; but determined not to
yield to new bursts of anger, or to spend his breath in useless menaces,
he abruptly opened one of the windows, and exposed his burning forehead
to the cool air. A little calmer, he walked up and down for a few
moments, and then returned to seat himself beside his wife. She, with her
eyes bathed in tears, fixed her gaze upon the crucifix, thinking that she
also had to bear a heavy cross.
Dagobert resumed: "By the manner in which you speak, I see that no
accident has happened, which might endanger the health of the children."
"No, oh no! thank God, they are quite well--that is all I can say to
you."
"Did they go out alone?"
"I cannot answer you."
"Has any one taken them away?"
"Alas, my dear!
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