"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. "In a convent." "In a convent?" "Yes; by the treachery of this man, who keeps them there in order to disinherit them." "What man?" "The Marquis d"Aigrigny." "My son"s mortal enemy!" cried the old workman, as he threw a glance of aversion at Father d"Aigrigny, whose audacity did not fail him. "And that is not all," added Agricola. "M. Hardy, my worthy and excellent master, has also lost his right to this immense inheritance."