“But, M. Dagobert, they are confined against their will and against yours.  They will not give them up.”

“They will not give them up?  Zounds! we will see about that.”  And he made a step towards the street.

“Father,” said Agricola, holding him back, “one moment’s patience; let us hear all.”

“I will hear nothing.  What! the children are there—­two steps from me—­I know it—­and I shall not have them, either by fair means or foul?  Oh! that would indeed be curious.  Let me go.”

“Listen to me, I beseech you, M. Dagobert,” said Mother Bunch, taking his hand:  “there is another way to deliver these poor children.  And that without violence—­for violence, as Mdlle. de Cardoville told me, would ruin all.”

“If there is any other way—­quick—­let me know it!”

“Here is a ring of Mdlle. de Cardoville’s.”

“And who is this Mdlle. de Cardoville?”

“Father,” said Agricola, “it is the generous young lady, who offered to be my bail, and to whom I have very important matters to communicate.”

“Good, good,” replied Dagobert; “we will talk of that presently.  Well, my dear girl—­this ring?”

“You must take it directly, M. Dagobert, to the Count de Montbron, No. 7, Place Vendome.  He appears to be a person of influence, and is a friend of Mdlle. de Cardoville’s.  This ring will prove that you come on her behalf, and you will tell him, that she is confined as a lunatic in the asylum next door to this convent, in which the daughters of Marshal Simon are detained against their will.”

“Well, well—­what next?”

“Then the Count de Montbron will take the proper steps with persons in authority, to restore both Mdlle. de Cardoville and the daughters of Marshal Simon to liberty—­and perhaps, to-morrow, or the day after—­”

“To-morrow or the day after!” cried Dagobert; “perhaps?—­It is to-day, on the instant, that I must have them.  The day after to-morrow would be of much use!  Thanks, my good girl, but keep your ring:  I will manage my own business.  Wait for me here, my boy.”

“What are you going to do, father?” cried Agricola, still holding back the soldier.  “It is a convent, remember.”

“You are only a raw recruit; I have my theory of convents at my fingers’ end.  In Spain, I have put it in practice a hundred times.  Here is what will happen.  I knock; a portress opens the door to me; she asks me what I want, but I make no answer; she tries to stop me, but I pass on; once in the convent, I walk over it from top to bottom, calling my children with all my might.”

“But, M. Dagobert, the nuns?” said Mother Bunch, still trying to detain the soldier.

“The nuns run after me, screaming like so many magpies.  I know them.  At Seville I fetched out an Andalusian girl, whom they were trying to keep by force.  Well, I walk about the convent calling for Rose and Blanche.  They hear me, and answer.  If they are shut in, I take the first piece of furniture that comes to hand, and break open the door.”