what a vain thing it is!" said Blanche, smoothing with her slender fingers the parting of the hair on her sister's forehead.
After a moment's reflection, Rose said to her: "Don't you think we should relate all this to Dagobert?"
"If you think so, let us do it."
"We tell him everything, as we told everything to mother. Why should we conceal this from him?"
"Especially as it is something which gives us so much pleasure."
"Do you not find that, since we have known our friend, our hearts beat quicker and stronger?"
"Yes, they seem to be more full."
"The reason why is plain enough; our friend fills up a good space in them."
"Well, we will do best to tell Dagobert what a lucky star ours is."
"You are right—" At this moment the dog gave another deep growl.
"Sister," said Rose, as she pressed closer to Blanche, "there is the dog growling again. What can be the matter with him?"
"Spoil-sport, do not growl! Come hither," said Blanche, striking with her little hand on the side of the bed.
The dog rose, again growled deeply, and came to lay his great, intelligent looking head on the counterpane, still obstinately casting a sidelong glance at the window; the sisters bent over him to pat his broad forehead, in the centre of which was a remarkable bump, the certain sign of extreme purity of race.
"What makes you growl so, Spoil-sport?" said Blanche, pulling him gently by the ears—"eh, my good dog?"
"Poor beast! he is always so uneasy when Dagobert is away."
"It is true; one would think he knows that he then has a double charge over us."
"Sister, it seems to me, Dagobert is late in coming to say good-night."
"No doubt he is attending to Jovial."
"That makes me think that we did not bid good-night to dear old Jovial.
"I am sorry for it."
"Poor beast! he seems so glad when he licks our hands. One would think that he thanked us for our visit."
"Luckily, Dagobert will have wished him good-night for us."
"Good Dagobert! he is always thinking of us. How he spoils us! We remain idle, and he has all the trouble."
"How can we prevent it?"
"What a pity that we are not rich, to give him a little rest."
"We rich! Alas, my sister! we shall never be anything but poor orphans."
"Oh, there's the medal!"
"Doubtless, there is some hope attached to it, else we should not have made this long journey."
"Dagobert has promised to tell us all, this evening."
She was prevented from continuing, for two of the windowpanes flew to pieces with a loud crash.
The orphans, with a cry of terror, threw themselves into each other's arms, whilst the dog rushed towards the window, barking furiously.
Pale, trembling, motionless with affright, clasping each other in a close embrace, the two sisters held their breath; in their extreme fear, they durst not even cast their eyes in the direction of the window. The dog, with his forepaws resting on the sill, continued to bark with violence.
"Alas! what can it be?" murmured the orphans. "And Dagobert not here!"
"Hark!" cried Rose, suddenly seizing Blanche by the arm; "hark!—some one coming up the stairs!"
"Good heaven! it does not sound like the tread of Dagobert. Do you not hear what heavy footsteps?"
"Quick! come, Spoil-sport, and defend us!" cried the two sisters at once, in an agony of alarm.
The boards of the wooden staircase really creaked beneath the weight of unusually heavy footsteps, and a singular kind of rustling was heard along the thin partition that divided the chamber from the landing-place. Then a ponderous mass, falling against the door of the room, shook it violently; and the girls, at the very height of terror, looked at each other without the power of speech.
The door opened. It was Dagobert.
At the sight of him Rose and Blanche joyfully exchanged a kiss, as if they had just escaped from a great danger.
"What is the matter? why are you afraid?" asked the soldier in surprise.
"Oh, if you only knew!" said Rose, panting as she spoke, for both her own heart and her sister's beat with violence.
"If you knew what has just happened! We did not recognize your footsteps—they seemed so heavy—and then that noise behind the partition!"
"Little frightened doves that you are! I could not run up the stairs like a boy of fifteen, seeing that I carried my bed upon my back—a straw mattress that I have just flung down before your door, to sleep there as usual."
"Bless me! how foolish we must be, sister, not to have thought of that!" said Rose, looking at Blanche. And their pretty faces, which had together grown pale, together resumed their natural color.
During this scene the dog, still resting against the window, did not cease barking a moment.
"What makes Spoil-sport bark in that direction, my children?" said the soldier.
"We do not know. Two of our windowpanes have just been broken. That is what first frightened us so much."
Without answering a word Dagobert flew to the window, opened it quickly, pushed back the shutter, and leaned out.
He saw nothing; it was a dark night. He listened; but heard only the moaning of the wind.
"Spoil-sport," said he to his dog, pointing to the open window, "leap out, old fellow, and search!" The faithful animal took one mighty spring and disappeared by the window, raised only about eight feet above the ground.
Dagobert, 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,