"Without him," said Rose, "we must have perished this morning in the shipwreck."
"Ah! it is he, who—" Dagobert could say no more. With swelling heart, and tears in his eyes, he ran to the missionary, offered him both his hands, and exclaimed in a tone of gratitude impossible to describe: "Sir, I owe you the lives of these two children. I feel what a debt that service lays upon me. I will not say more—because it includes everything!"
Then, as if struck with a sudden recollection, he cried: "Stop! when I was trying to cling to a rock, so as not to be carried away by the waves, was it not you that held out your hand to me? Yes—that light hair—that youthful countenance—yes—it was certainly you—now I am sure of it!"
"Unhappily, sir, my strength failed me, and I had the anguish to see you fall back into the sea."
"I can say nothing more in the way of thanks than what I have already said," answered Dagobert, with touching simplicity: "in preserving these children you have done more for me than if you had saved my own life. But what heart and courage!" added the soldier, with admiration; "and so young, with such a girlish look!"
"And so," cried Blanche, joyfully, "our Gabriel came to your aid also?"
"Gabriel!" said Dagobert interrupting Blanche, and addressing himself to the priest. "Is your name Gabriel?"
"Yes, sir."
"Gabriel!" repeated the soldier, more and more surprised. "And a priest!" added he.
"A priest of the foreign missions."