still leaning over, encouraged his dog with voice and gesture: "Search, old fellow, search! If there is any one there, pin him—your fangs are strong—and hold him fast till I come."
But Spoil-sport found no one. They heard him go backwards and forwards, snuffing on every side, and now and then uttering a low cry like a hound at fault.
"There is no one, my good dog, that's clear, or you would have had him by the throat ere this." Then, turning to the maidens, who listened to his words and watched his movements with uneasiness: "My girls," said he, "how were these panes broken? Did you not remark?"
"No, Dagobert; we were talking together when we heard a great crash, and then the glass fell into the room."
"It seemed to me," added Rose, "as if a shutter had struck suddenly against the window."
Dagobert examined the shutter, and observed a long movable hook, designed to fasten it on the inside.
"It blows hard," said he; "the wind must have swung round the shutter, and this hook broke the window. Yes, yes; that is it. What interest could anybody have to play such a sorry trick?" Then, speaking to Spoil sport, he asked, "Well, my good fellow, is there no one?"
The dog answered by a bark, which the soldier no doubt understood as a negative, for he continued: "Well, then, come back! Make the round—you will find some door open—you are never at a loss."
The animal followed this advice. After growling for a few seconds beneath the window, he set off at a gallop to make the circuit of the buildings, and come back by the court-yard.
"Be quite easy, my children!" said the soldier, as he again drew near the orphans; "it was only the wind."
"We were a good deal frightened," said Rose.
"I believe you. But now I think of it, this draught is likely to give you cold." And seeking to remedy this inconvenience, he took from a chair the reindeer pelisse, and suspended it from the spring-catch of the curtainless window, using the skirts to stop up as closely as possible the two openings made by the breaking of the panes.
"Thanks, Dagobert, how good you are! We were very uneasy at not seeing you."
"Yes, you were absent longer than usual. But what is the matter with you?" added Rose, only just then perceiving that his countenance was disturbed and pallid, for he was still under the painful influence of the brawl with Morok; "how pale you are!"
"Me, my pets?—Oh, nothing."
"Yes, I assure you, your countenance is quite changed. Rose is right."
"I tell you there is nothing the matter," answered the soldier, not without some embarrassment, for he was little used to deceive; till, finding an excellent excuse for his emotion, he added: "If I do look at all uncomfortable, it is your fright that has made me so, for indeed it was my fault."
"Your fault!"
"Yes; for if I had not lost so much time at supper, I should have been here when the window was broken, and have spared you the fright."
"Anyhow, you are here now, and we think no more of it."
"Why don't you sit down?"
"I will, my children, for we have to talk together," said Dagobert, as he drew a chair close to the head of the bed.
"Now tell me, are you quite awake?" he added, trying to smile in order to reassure them. "Are those large eyes properly open?"
"Look, Dagobert!" cried the two girls, smiling in their turn, and opening their blue eyes to the utmost extent.
"Well, well," said the soldier, "they are yet far enough, from shutting; besides, it is only nine o'clock."
"We also have something to tell, Dagobert," resumed Rose, after exchanging glances with her sister.
"Indeed!"
"A secret to tell you."
"A secret?"
"Yes, to be sure."
"Ah, and a very great secret!" added Rose, quite seriously.
"A secret which concerns us both," resumed Blanche.
"Faith! I should think so. What concerns the one always concerns the other. Are you not always, as the saying goes, 'two faces under one hood?'"
"Truly, how can it be otherwise, when you put our heads under the great hood of your pelisse?" said Rose, laughing.
"There they are again, mocking-birds! One never has the last word with them. Come, ladies, your secret, since a secret there is."
"Speak, sister," said Rose.
"No, miss, it is for you to speak. You are to-day on duty, as eldest, and such an important thing as telling a secret like that you talk of belongs of right to the elder sister. Come, I am listening to you," added the soldier, as he forced a smile, the better to conceal from the maidens how much he still felt the unpunished affronts of the brute tamer.
It was Rose (who, as Dagobert said, was doing duty as eldest) that spoke for herself and for her sister.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SECRET.
"First of all, good Dagobert," said Rose, in a gracefully caressing manner, "as we are going to tell our secret—you must promise not to scold us."
"You will not scold your darlings, will you?" added Blanche, in a no less coaxing voice.
"Granted!" replied Dagobert gravely; "particularly as I should not well know how to set about it—but why should I scold you."
"Because we ought perhaps to have told you sooner what we are going to tell you."
"Listen, my children," said Dagobert sententiously, after reflecting a moment on this case of conscience; "one of two things must be. Either you were right, or else you were wrong, to hide this from me. If you were right, very well; if you were wrong, it is done: so let's say no more about it. Go on—I am all attention."
Completely reassured by this luminous decision, Rose resumed, while she exchanged a smile with her sister.
"Only think, Dagobert; for two successive nights we have had a visitor."
"A visitor!" cried the soldier, drawing himself up suddenly in his chair.
"Yes, a charming visitor—he is so very fair."
"Fair—the devil!" cried Dagobert, with a start.
"Yes, fair—and with blue eyes," added Blanche.
"Blue eyes—blue devils!" and Dagobert again bounded on his seat.
"Yes, blue eyes—as long as that," resumed Rose, placing the tip of
