The judge considered he had already done a good deal for Dagobert, in not ****** him responsible for the wound of the Prophet, who, as we have already said, exercised a certain influence over the Catholics of the country by the sale of his devotional treasures, and also from its being known that he was supported by some persons of eminence.The soldier's pertinacity, therefore, offended the magistrate, who, reassuming his lofty air, replied, in a chilling tone: "You will make me repent my impartiality.How is this? Instead of thanking me, you ask for more."
"But, Mr.Burgomaster, I ask only for what is just.I wish I were wounded in the hand, like the Prophet, so that I could but continue my journey."
"We are not talking of what you wish.I have pronounced sentence--there is no more to say."
"But, Mr.Burgomaster--"
"Enough, enough.Let us go to the next subject.Your papers?"
"Yes, we will speak about my papers; but I beg of you, Mr.Burgomaster, to have pity on those two children.Let us have the means to continue our journey, and--"
"I have done all I could for you--perhaps, more than I ought.Once again, your papers!"
"I must first explain to you--"
"No "No explanation--your papers!--Or would you like me to have you arrested as a vagabond?"
"Me---arrested!"
"I tell you that, if you refuse to show me your papers, it will be as if you had none.Now, those people who have no papers we take into custody till the authorities can dispose of them.Let me see your papers, and make haste!--I am in a hurry to get home."
Dagobert's position was the more distressing, as for a moment he had indulged in sanguine hope.The last blow was now added to all the veteran had suffered since the commencement of this scene, which was a cruel as well as dangerous trial, for a man of his character--upright, but obstinate--faithful, but rough and absolute--a man who, for a long time a soldier, and a victorious one, had acquired a certain despotic mariner of treating with civilians.
At these words--"your papers," Dagobert became very pale; but he tried to conceal his anguish beneath an air of assurance, which he thought best calculated to gain the magistrate's good opinion."I will tell you all about it, Mr.Burgomaster," said he."Nothing can be clearer.Such a thing might happen to any one.I do not look like a beggar and a vagabond, do I? And yet--you will understand, that an honest man who travels with two young girls--"
"No more words! Your papers!"
At this juncture two powerful auxiliaries arrived to the soldier's aid.
The orphans, growing more and more uneasy, and hearing Dagobert still talking upon the landing-place, had risen and dressed themselves; so that just at the instant, when the magistrate said in a rough voice--"No more words! Your papers!"--Rose and Blanche holding each other by the hand, came forth from the chamber.
At sight of those charming faces, which their poor mourning vestments only rendered more interesting, the burgomaster rose from his seat, struck with surprise and admiration.By a spontaneous movement, each sister took a hand of Dagobert, and pressed close to him, whilst they regarded the magistrate with looks of mingled anxiety and candor.
It was so touching a picture, this of the old soldier presenting as it were to his judge the graceful children, with countenances full of innocence and beauty, that the burgomaster, by a sudden reaction, found himself once more disposed to sentiments of pity.Dagobert perceived it;
and, still holding the orphans by the hand, he advanced towards him, and said in a feeling voice: "Look at these poor children, Mr.Burgomaster!
Could I show you a better passport?" And, overcome by so many painful sensations--restrained, yet following each other in quick succession--
Dagobert felt, in spite of himself, that the tears were starting to his eyes.
Though naturally rough, and rendered still more testy by the interruption of his sleep, the burgomaster was not quite deficient in sense of feeling.He perceived at once, that a man thus accompanied, ought not to inspire any great distrust."Poor dear children!" said he, as he examined them with growing interest; "orphans so young, and they come from far--"
"From the heart of Siberia, Mr.Burgomaster, where their mother was an exile before their birth.It is now more than five months that we have been travelling on by short stages--hard enough, you will say, for children of their age.It is for them that I ask your favor and support for them against whom everything seems to combine to-day for, only just now, when I went to look for my papers, I could not find in my knapsack the portfolio in which they were, along with my purse and cross--for you must know, Mr.Burgomaster--pardon me, if I say it--'tis not from vain glory--but I was decorated by the hand of the Emperor; and a man whom he decorated with his own hand, you see, could not be so bad a fellow, though he may have had the misfortune to lose his papers--and his purse.
That's what has happened to me, and made me so pressing about the damages."
"How and where did you suffer this loss?"
"I do not know, Mr.Burgomaster; I am sure that the evening before last, at bed-time, I took a little money out of the purse, and saw the portfolio in its place; yesterday I had small change sufficient, and did not undo the knapsack."
"And where then has the knapsack been kept?"
"In the room occupied by the children: but this night--"
Dagobert was here interrupted by the tread of some one mounting the stairs: it was the Prophet.Concealed in the shadow of the staircase, he had listened to this conversation, and he dreaded lest the weakness of the burgomaster should mar the complete success of his projects.
