“A farewell visit! Now!” exclaimed Dagobert and Agricola both at once.
“Alas, yes!”
“You start already on another mission?” said Dagobert; “surely it is not possible?”
“I must answer no question upon this subject,” said Gabriel, suppressing a sigh: “but from now, for some time, I cannot, and ought not, come again into this house.”
“Why, my brave boy,” resumed Dagobert with emotion, “there is something in thy conduct that savors of constraint, of oppression. I know something of men. He you call superior, whom I saw for some moments after the shipwreck at Cardoville Castle, has a bad look; and I am sorry to see you enrolled under such a commander.”
“At Cardoville Castle!” exclaimed Agricola, struck with the identity of the name with that of the young lady of the golden hair; “was it in Cardoville Castle that you were received after your shipwreck?”
“Yes, my boy; why, does that astonish you?” asked Dagobert.
“Nothing father; but were the owners of the castle there at the time?”
“No; for the steward, when I applied to him for an opportunity to return thanks for the kind hospitality we had experienced, informed me that the person to whom the house belonged was resident at Paris.”
“What a singular coincidence,” thought Agricola, “if the young lady should be the proprietor of the dwelling which bears her name!”