"Now, my dear Eva," continued Rose, "you must become acquainted, by means of this narrative at least, with the intrepid Djalma.He is but just eighteen.With one word, I will paint for you his noble and valiant nature; it is a custom of this country to give surnames, and, when only fifteen, he was called 'The Generous'--by which was, of course, meant generous in heart and mind.By another custom, no less touching than whimsical, this name was reverted to his parent, who is called 'The Father of the Generous,' and who might, with equal propriety, be called 'The Just,' for this old Indian is a rare example of chivalrous honor and proud independence.He might, like so many other poor princes of this country, have humbled himself before the execrable despotism of the English, bargained for the relinquishment of sovereign power, and submitted to brute force--but it was not in his nature.'My whole rights, or a grave in my native mountains!'--such is his motto.And this is no empty boast; it springs from the conviction of what is right and just.'But you will be crushed in the struggle,' I have said to him--'My friend,' he answered, 'what if, to force you to a disgraceful act, you were told to yield or die?'--From that day I understood him, and have devoted myself, mind and body, to the ever sacred cause of the weak against the strong.You see, my Eva, that Djalma shows himself worthy of such a father.This young Indian is so proud, so heroic in his bravery, that, like a young Greek of Leonidas' age, he fights with his breast bare; while other warriors of his country (who, indeed, usually have arms, breast, and shoulders uncovered) wear, in time of battle, a thick, impenetrable vest.The rash daring of this youth reminds me of Murat, King of Naples, who, I have so often told you, I have seen a hundred times leading the most desperate charges with nothing but a riding-whip in his hand."
"That's another of those kings I was telling you of, whom the Emperor set up for his amusement," said Dagobert."I once saw a Prussian officer prisoner, whose face had been cut across by that mad-cap King of Naples'
riding-whip; the mark was there, a black and blue stripe.The Prussian swore he was dishonored, and that a sabre-cut would have been preferable.
I should rather think so! That devil of a king; he only had one idea:
'Forward, on to the cannon!' As soon as they began to cannonade, one would have thought the guns were calling him with all their might, for he was soon up to them with his 'Here I am!' If I speak to you about him, my children, it's because he was fond of repeating,--'No one can break through a square of infantry, if General Simon or I can't do it.'"
Rose continued:
"I have observed with pain, that, notwithstanding his youth, Djalma is often subject to fits of deep melancholy.At times, I have seen him exchange with his father looks of singular import.In spite of our mutual attachment, I believe that both conceal from me some sad family secret, in so far as I can judge from expressions which have dropped from them by chance.
"It relates to some strange event which their vivid imaginations have invested with a supernatural character.
"And yet, my love, you and I have no longer the right to smile at the credulity of others.I, since the French campaign, when I met with that extraordinary adventure, which, to this day, I am quite unable to understand--"
"This refers to the man who threw himself before the mouth of the cannon," said Dagobert.
"And you," continued the maiden, still reading, "you, my dear Eva, since the visits of that young and beautiful woman, whom, as your mother asserted, she had seen at her mother's house forty years before."
The orphans, in amazement, looked at the soldier.
"Your mother never spoke to me of that, nor the general either, my children; this is as strange to me as it is to you."
With increasing excitement and curiosity, Rose continued:
"After all, my dear Eva, things which appear very extraordinary, may often be explained by a chance resemblance or a freak of nature.Marvels being always the result of optical illusion or heated fancy, a time must come, when that which appeared to be superhuman or supernatural, will prove to be the most ****** and natural event in the world.I doubt not, therefore, that the things, which we denominate our prodigies, will one day receive this commonplace solution."
"You see, my children--things appear marvelous, which at bottom are quite ******--though for a long time we understand nothing about them."
"As our father relates this, we must believe it, and not be astonished--
eh, sister?"
"Yes, truly--since it will all be explained one day."
"For example," said Dagobert, after a moment's reflection, "you two are so much alike, that any one, who was not in the habit of seeing you daily, might easily take one for the other.Well! if they did not know that you are, so to speak,'doubles,' they might think an imp was at work instead of such good little angels as you are."
"You are right, Dagobert; in this way many things may be explained, even as our father says." And Rose continued to read:
"Not without pride, my gentle Eva, have I learned that Djalma has French blood in his veins.His father married, some years ago, a young girl, whose family, of French origin, had long been settled at Batavia in the island of Java.This similarity of circumstances between my old friend and myself--for your family also, my Eva, is of French origin, and long settled in a foreign land--has only served to augment my sympathy for him.Unfortunately, he has long had to mourn the loss of the wife whom he adored.