ose who had this token were descendants of a family whom, a hundred and
fifty years ago, persecution scattered through the world, in emigration
and exile; in changes of religion, fortune and name. For this
family--what grandeur, what reverses, what obscurity, what lustre, what
penury, what glory! How many crimes sullied, how many virtues honored it!
The history of this single family is the history of humanity! Passing
through many generations, throbbing in the veins of the poor and the
rich, the sovereign and the bandit, the wise and the simple, the coward
and the brave, the saint and the atheist, the blood flowed on to the year
we have named.

Seven representatives summed up the virtue, courage, degradation,
splendor, and poverty of the race. Seven: two orphan twin daughters of
exiled parents, a dethroned prince, a humble missionary priest, a man of
the middle class, a young lady of high name and large fortune, and a
working man.

Fate scattered them in Russia, India, France, and America.

The orphans, Rose and Blanche Simon, had left their dead mother's grave
in Siberia, under charge of a trooper named Francis Baudoin, alias
Dagobert, who was as much attached to them as he had been devoted to
their father, his commanding general.

On the road to France, this little party had met the first check, in the
only tavern of Mockern village. Not only had a wild beast showman, known
as Morok the lion-tamer, sought to pick a quarrel with the inoffensive
veteran, but that failing, had let a panther of his menagerie loose upon
the soldier's horse. That horse had carried Dagobert, under General
Simon's and the Great Napoleon's eyes, through many battles; had borne
the General's wife (a Polish lady under the Czar's ban) to her home of
exile in Siberia, and their children now across Russia and Germany, but
only to perish thus cruelly. An unseen hand appeared in a manifestation
of spite otherwise unaccountable. Dagobert, denounced as a French spy,
and his fair young companions accused of being adventuresses to help his
designs, had so kindled at the insult, not less to him than to his old
commander's daughters, that he had taught the pompous burgomaster of
Mockern a lesson, which, however, resulted in the imprisonment of the
three in Leipsic jail.

General Simon, who had vainly sought to share his master's St. Helena
captivity, had gone to fight the English in India. But notwithstanding
his drilling of Radja-sings sepoys, they h