"Yes."
"And that pretty boy who guides you is your son?"
"He is—Heaven bless him!"
"Amen! But has it never occurred to you, my friend, that you are doing him great injustice in keeping him by you at an age when he ought to be getting an education to enable him to push his way in the world?"
"Alas! sir, I have often thought of it. But what could supply his place? and then, who would befriend and educate him?"
"His place might be supplied by a dog—and for his protector, I, myself, who have no son, should be glad to adopt and educate him."
His son's place supplied by a dog! The thought was agony. And to part with Victor! The idea was as cruel as death itself. The old soldier was silent.
"You are silent, my friend. Has my offer offended you?"
"No sir—no. But you will pardon a father's feelings."
"I respect them—and I do not wish to hurry you. Take a day to think of my proposition, and to inform yourself respecting my character and position. I am a merchant. My name is Eugene Marmont, and I reside at No. 17 Rue St. Honoré, Paris. I will meet you at this spot to-morrow at the same hour, and shall then expect an answer. Au revoir." He placed a golden louis in the hand of the soldier, and departed.