“Here! Spoil-sport!” Dagobert called, for the honest dog seemed to have a secret dislike for the pretended idiot, and approached him with an angry air.
“No, my lord duke, it is not me!” resumed Loony. “It is the footman who told me to tell M. Dagobert, when I brought up the wood to tell my lord duke, as I was coming up with the basket, that M. Robert wants to see him.”
The girls laughed still more at this new stupidity. But, at the name of Robert, Marshal Simon started.
M. Robert was the secret emissary of Rodin, with regard to the possible, but adventurous, enterprise of attempting the liberation of Napoleon II. After a moment’s silence, the marshal, whose face was still radiant with joy and happiness, said to Loony: “Beg M. Robert to wait for me a moment in my study.”
“Yes, my lord duke,” answered Loony, bowing almost to the ground.
The simpleton withdrew, and the marshal said to his daughters, in a joyous tone, “You see, that, in a moment like this, one does not leave one’s children, even for M. Robert.”
“Oh! that’s right, father!” cried Blanche, gayly; “for I was already very angry with this M. Robert.”
“Have you pen and paper at hand?” asked the marshal.
“Yes, father; there on the table,” said Rose, hastily, as she pointed to a little desk near one of the windows, towards which the marshal now advanced rapidly.
From motives of delicacy, the girls remained where they were, close to the fireplace, and caressed each other tenderly, as if to congratulate themselves in private on the unexpected happiness of this day.