"Yes, my boy," said the marshal's father, cordially pressing Agricola's
hand "I have just arrived from my journey. M. Hardy was to have been
here, about some matter of inheritance, as he supposed: but, as he will
still be absent from Paris for some time, he has charged me--"

"He also an heir!--M. Francis Hardy!" cried Agricola, interrupting the
old workman.

"But how pale and agitated you are, my boy!" said the marshal's father,
looking round with astonishment. "What is the matter?"

"What is the matter?" cried Dagobert, in despair, as he approached the
foreman. "The matter is that they would rob your granddaughters, and that
I have brought them from the depths of Siberia only to witness this
shameful deed!"

"Eh?" cried the old workman, trying to recognize the soldiers face, "you
are then--"

"Dagobert."

"You--the generous, devoted friend of my son!" cried the marshal's
father, pressing the hands of Dagobert in his own with strong emotion;
"but did you not speak of Simon's daughter?"

"Of his daughters; for he is more fortunate than he imagines," said
Dagobert. "The poor children are twins."

"And where are they?" asked the old man.