on, and her feet resting on the
lowest rung of the chair; from time to time, she shivered in her damp,
chill garments.

After that long day of fatigue and diverse emotions, the poor creature
had eaten nothing. Had she even thought of it, she would have been at a
loss for bread. Waiting for the return of Dagobert and Agricola, she had
sunk into an agitated sleep--very different, alas! from calm and
refreshing slumber. From time to time, she half opened her eyes uneasily,
and looked around her. Then, again, overcome by irresistible heaviness,
her head fell upon her bosom.

After some minutes of silence, only interrupted by the noise of the wind,
a slow and heavy step was heard on the landing-place. The door opened,
and Dagobert entered, followed by Spoil-sport.

Waking with a start, Mother Bunch raised her head hastily, sprang from
her chair, and, advancing rapidly to meet Agricola's father, said to him:
"Well, M. Dagobert! have you good news? Have you--"

She could not continue, she was so struck with the gloomy expression of
the soldier's features. Absorbed in his reflections, he did not at first
appear to perceive the speaker, but threw himself despondingly on a
chair, rested his elbows upon the table, and hid his face in his hands.
After a long meditation, he rose, and said in a low voice: "It must--yes,
it must be done!"

Taking a few steps up and down the room, Dagobert looked around him, as
if in search of something. At length, after about a minute's examination,
he perceived near the stove, a bar of iron, perhaps two feet long,
serving to lift the covers, when too hot for the fingers. Taking this in
his hand, he looked at it closely, poised it to judge of its weight, and
then laid it down upon the drawers with an air of satisfaction. Surprised
at the long silence of Dagobert, the needlewoman followed his movements
with timid and uneasy curiosity. But soon her surprise gave way to
fright, when she saw the soldier take down his knapsack, place it upon a
chair, open it, and draw from it a pair of pocket-pistols, the locks of
which he tried with the utmost caution.

Seized with terror, the sempstress could not forbear exclaiming: "Good
gracious, M. Dagobert! what are you going to do?"

The soldier looked at her as if he only now perceived her for the first
time, and said to her in a cordial, but abrupt voice: "Good-evening, my
good girl! What is the time?"

"Eight o'clock has just struck at Saint-Mery's, M. D