her?" said Agricola, hastily.

"It is Abbe Dubois, who had them conveyed thither; but Gabriel supposes,
that he probably acted by the advice of M. Rodin.

"And if that were so, mother, it would be in vain to apply to M. Rodin.
We should get nothing from him."

"Not from him--but perhaps from that powerful abbe, who is Gabriel's
superior, and has always patronized him since his first entrance at the
seminary."

"What abbe, mother?"

"Abbe d'Aigrigny."

"True mother; before being a priest, he was a soldier he may be more
accessible than others--and yet--"

"D'Aigrigny!" cried Dagobert, with an expression of hate and horror.
"There is then mixed up with these treasons, a man who was a soldier
before being a priest, and whose name is D'Aigrigny?"

"Yes, father; the Marquis d'Aigrigny--before the Restoration, in the
service of Russia--but, in 1815, the Bourbons gave him a regiment."

"It is he!" said Dagobert, in a hollow voice. "Always the same! like an
evil spirit--to the mother, father, children."

"What do you mean, father?"

"The Marquis d'Aigrigny!" replied Dagobert. "Do you know what is this
man? Before he was a priest, he was the murderer of Rose and Blanche's
mother, because she despised his love. Before he was a priest, he fought
against his country, and twice met General Simon face to face in war.
Yes; while the general was prisoner at Leipsic, covered with wounds at
Waterloo, the turncoat marquis triumphed with the Russians and
English!--Under the Bourbons, this same renegade, loaded with honors,
found himself once more face to face with the persecuted soldier of the
empire. Between them, this time, there was a mortal duel--the marquis was
wounded--General Simon was proscribed, condemned, driven into exile. The
renegade, you say, has become a priest. Well! I am now certain, that it
is he who has carried off Rose and Blanche, in order to wreak on them his
hatred of their father and mother. It is the infamous D'Aigrigny, who
holds them in his power. It is no longer the fortune of these children
that I have to defend; it is their life--do you hear what I say?--their
very life?"

"What, father! do you think this man capable--"

"A traitor to his country, who finishes by becoming a mock priest, is
capable of anything. I tell you, that, perhaps at this moment he may be
killing those children by a slow-fire!" exclaimed the soldier, in a voice
of agony. "To separate them from one another was to begin to k