in the path of the Jesuit and the
twins by keeping close to the door; but, after a moments reflection, he
shrugged his shoulders, stepped to one side, and said calmly: "I was an
old fool. Come, young ladies; if you find Madame Augustine in the house,
I will allow you to remain with her."

Surprised at these words, the girls stood motionless and irresolute.

"If our governess is not here, where is she, then?" said Rose.

"You think, perhaps, that I am going to tell you in the excitement in
which you are!"

"She is dead!" cried Rose growing pale.

"No, no--be calm," said the soldier, hastily; "I swear to you, by your
father's honor, that she is not dead. At the first appearance of the
disorder, she begged to be removed from the house, fearing the contagion
for those in it."

"Good and courageous woman!" said Rose tenderly, "And you will not allow
us--"

"I will not allow you to go out, even if I have to lock you up in your
room," cried the soldier, again stamping with rage; then, remembering
that the blunderhead's indiscretion was the sole cause of this
unfortunate incident, he added, with concentrated fury: "Oh! I will break
my stick upon that rascal's back."

So saying, he turned towards the door, where Rodin still stood, silent
and attentive, dissembling with habitual impassibility the fatal hopes he
had just conceived in his brain. The girls, no longer doubting the
removal of their governess, and convinced that Dagobert would not tell
them whither they had conveyed her, remained pensive and sad.

At sight of the priest, whom he had forgotten for the moment, the
soldier's rage increased, and he said to him abruptly: "Are you still
there?"

"I would merely observe to you, my dear sir," said Rodin, with that air
of perfect good nature which he knew so well how to assume, "that you
were standing before the door, which naturally prevented me from going
out."

"Well, now nothing prevents you--so file off!"

"Certainly, I will file off, if you wish it, my dear sir though I think I
have some reason to be surprised at such a reception."

"It is no reception at all--so begone!"

"I had come, my dear sir to speak to you--"

"I have no time for talking."

"Upon business of great importance."

"I have no other business of importance than to remain with these
children."

"Very good, my dear sir," said Rodin, pausing on the threshold. "I will
not disturb you any longer; excuse my indiscretion. The bearer of