ad been beaten by the troops
taught by Clive, and not only was the old king of Mundi slain, and the
realm added to the Company's land, but his son, Prince Djalma, taken
prisoner. However, at length released, he had gone to Batavia, with
General Simon. The prince's mother was a Frenchwoman, and among the
property she left him in the capital of Java, the general was delighted
to find just such another medal as he knew was in his wife's possession.

The unseen hand of enmity had reached to him, for letters miscarried, and
he did not know either his wife's decease or that he had twin daughters.

By a trick, on the eve of the steamship leaving Batavia for the Isthmus
of Suez, Djalma was separated from his friend, and sailing for Europe
alone, the latter had to follow in another vessel.

The missionary priest trod the war trails of the wilderness, with that
faith and fearlessness which true soldiers of the cross should evince. In
one of these heroic undertakings, Indians had captured him, and dragging
him to their village under the shadow of the Rocky Mountains, they had
nailed him in derision to a cross, and prepared to scalp him.

But if an unseen hand of a foe smote or stabbed at the sons of Rennepont,
a visible interpositor had often shielded them, in various parts of the
globe.

A man, seeming of thirty years of age, very tall, with a countenance as
lofty as mournful, marked by the black eyebrows meeting, had thrown
himself--during a battle's height--between a gun of a park which General
Simon was charging and that officer. The cannon vomited its hail of
death, but when the flame and smoke had passed, the tall man stood erect
as before, smiling pityingly on the gunner, who fell on his knees as
frightened as if he beheld Satan himself. Again, as General Simon lay
upon the lost field of Waterloo, raging with his wounds, eager to die
after such a defeat, this same man staunched his hurts, and bade him live
for his wife's sake.

Years after, wearing the same unalterable look, this man accosted
Dagobert in Siberia, and gave him for General Simon's wife, the diary and
letters of her husband, written in India, in little hope of them ever
reaching her hands. And at the year our story opens, this man unbarred
the cell-door of Leipsic jail, and let Dagobert and the orphans out, free
to continue their way into France.

On the other hand, when the scalping-knife had traced its mark around the
head of Gabriel the missionary, a