I have said to him—­’My friend,’ he answered, ’what if, to force you to a disgraceful act, you were told to yield or die?’—­From that day I understood him, and have devoted myself, mind and body, to the ever sacred cause of the weak against the strong.  You see, my Eva, that Djalma shows himself worthy of such a father.  This young Indian is so proud, so heroic in his bravery, that, like a young Greek of Leonidas’ age, he fights with his breast bare; while other warriors of his country (who, indeed, usually have arms, breast, and shoulders uncovered) wear, in time of battle, a thick, impenetrable vest.  The rash daring of this youth reminds me of Murat, King of Naples, who, I have so often told you, I have seen a hundred times leading the most desperate charges with nothing but a riding-whip in his hand.”

“That’s another of those kings I was telling you of, whom the Emperor set up for his amusement,” said Dagobert.  “I once saw a Prussian officer prisoner, whose face had been cut across by that mad-cap King of Naples’ riding-whip; the mark was there, a black and blue stripe.  The Prussian swore he was dishonored, and that a sabre-cut would have been preferable.  I should rather think so!  That devil of a king; he only had one idea:  ‘Forward, on to the cannon!’ As soon as they began to cannonade, one would have thought the guns were calling him with all their might, for he was soon up to them with his ‘Here I am!’ If I speak to you about him, my children, it’s because he was fond of repeating,—­’No one can break through a square of infantry, if General Simon or I can’t do it.’”

Rose continued: 

“I have observed with pain, that, notwithstanding his youth, Djalma is often subject to fits of deep melancholy.  At times, I have seen him exchange with his father looks of singular import.  In spite of our mutual attachment, I believe that both conceal from me some sad family secret, in so far as I can judge from expressions which have dropped from them by chance.

“It relates to some strange event which their vivid imaginations have invested with a supernatural character.

“And yet, my love, you and I have no longer the right to smile at the credulity of others.  I, since the French campaign, when I met with that extraordinary adventure, which, to this day, I am quite unable to understand—­”

“This refers to the man who threw himself before the mouth of the cannon,” said Dagobert.

“And you,” continued the maiden, still reading, “you, my dear Eva, since the visits of that young and beautiful woman, whom, as your mother asserted, she had seen at her mother’s house forty years before.”

The orphans, in amazement, looked at the soldier.

“Your mother never spoke to me of that, nor the general either, my children; this is as strange to me as it is to you.”

With increasing excitement and curiosity, Rose continued: 

“After all, my dear Eva, things which appear very extraordinary, may often be explained by a chance resemblance or a freak of nature.  Marvels being always the result of optical illusion or heated fancy, a time must come, when that which appeared to be superhuman or supernatural, will prove to be the most simple and natural event in the world.  I doubt not, therefore, that the things, which we denominate our prodigies, will one day receive this commonplace solution.”