“And you have made me come up at a fine pace!” added Rodin, pretty well out of breath.
“Now, sir,” said Dagobert, in a grave voice, “I declare, in presence of all, that I was wrong to abuse and ill-treat you. I make you my apology for it, sir; and I acknowledge, with joy, that I owe you—much—oh! very much and when I owe, I pay.”
So saying, Dagobert held out his honest hand to Rodin, who pressed it in a very affable manner, and replied: “Now, really—what is all this about? What great service do you speak of?”
“This!” said Dagobert, holding up the cross before Rodin’s eyes. “You do not know, then, what this cross is to me?”
“On the contrary, supposing you would set great store by it, I intended to have the pleasure of delivering it myself. I had brought it for that purpose; but, between ourselves, you gave me so warm a reception, that I had not the time—”
“Sir,” said Dagobert, in confusion, “I assure you that I sincerely repent of what I have done.”
“I know it, my good friend; do not say another word about it. You were then much attached to this cross?”
“Attached to it, sir!” cried Dagobert. “Why, this cross,” and he kissed it as he spoke, “is my relic. He from whom it came was my saint—my hero—and he had touched it with his hand!”
“Oh!” said Rodin, feigning to regard the cross with as much curiosity as respectful admiration; “did Napoleon—the Great Napoleon—indeed touch with his own hand—that victorious hand!—this noble star of honor?”
“Yes, sir, with his own hand. He placed it there upon my bleeding breast, as a cure for my fifth wound. So that, you see, were I dying of hunger, I think I should not hesitate betwixt bread and my cross—that I might, in any case, have it on my heart in death. But, enough—enough! let us talk of something else. It is foolish in an old soldier, is it not?” added Dagobert, drawing his hand across his eyes, and then, as if ashamed to deny what he really felt: “Well, then! yes,” he resumed, raising his head proudly, and no longer seeking to conceal the tears that rolled down his cheek; “yes, I weep for joy, to have found my cross—my cross, that the Emperor gave me with his victorious hand, as this worthy man has called it.”