Read Ebook: Paul and His Dog v.2 (Novels of Paul de Kock Volume XIV) by Kock Paul De

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Ebook has 3297 lines and 89208 words, and 66 pages

"You must surely have heard of the dog of Montargis, who pointed out the place where his master had been buried, and jumped at the assassin whenever he saw him; the result being that the king ordered a duel between the man and the dog, in which the latter was the victor and slew the murderer.

"In the memoirs of Benvenuto Cellini, we find this anecdote: A malefactor had forced his way into the artist's shop at night; the dog that was on guard there tried at first to contend against him, although he was armed with a dagger. Being wounded, and feeling that his strength was failing him, he hastened to the apprentices' room, found them sleeping soundly, and, to rouse them, pulled off the bedclothes. As they could not understand the dog's persistence in uncovering them, they drove him from the room and locked the door. Thereupon the poor dog, wounded as he was, returned to the robber; but he, being young and active, succeeded in making his escape. Some time after, Cellini happened to be walking one day in Rome, when his faithful dog suddenly darted at a fine gentleman who was passing, and clung savagely to him despite the swords and staves of the bystanders. At last they succeeded in forcing him to let go, but the fine gentleman, hurrying away, dropped from beneath his cloak several valuable jewels, among which Benvenuto recognized a ring belonging to him. He instantly cried out: 'That is the villain who broke into my house at night and robbed me; my dog recognized him.' --And he was about to set the animal on the robber again, when he confessed his crime and begged for mercy.

"On September 10, 1419, the Duc de Bourgogne, Jean-sans-Peur, mounted his horse in the courtyard of the house he occupied at Bray-sur-Seine, to ride to the interview he was to have with the Dauphin of France at the bridge of Montereau. His dog had howled piteously all night, and when he saw that his master was about to start, he darted from the kennel where he was fastened, with gleaming eyes and hair erect; finally, when the duke, after a parting salutation to Madame de Gyac who was looking on from her window, rode forth from the courtyard, the dog made such a mighty effort that he broke his double iron chain, and as the horse passed under the gateway, he threw himself at his chest and bit him so cruelly that the beast reared and nearly unhorsed his rider. The grooms tried to drive him away with whips, but the dog paid no heed to the blows he received and threw himself again at the neck of the duke's horse. The duke, thinking that he was mad, seized a small battle axe which he carried at his saddle-bow, and laid open his head; the dog gave a yell and fell dying in the gateway, as if still forbidding his master to go forth. The duke, with a sigh of regret, jumped his horse over the faithful creature's body and rode to the bridge of Montereau--where he was assassinated.

"Lastly, they tell of an equally admirable and equally incomprehensible act of an English bull dog, who followed his master to his bedroom one night. The latter, who had never paid much attention to the dog, refused to let him enter the bedroom; but the animal was so persistent in begging to remain with him that he finally consented to allow him to take up his quarters there. That same night, a servant stole into this same bedroom, with the intention of killing his master and then robbing him; but he was prevented by the faithful dog, who had insisted upon doing sentry duty, and who saved his master's life by seizing the robber.

"These, mesdames, are a few of the anecdotes which I have collected concerning the canine race and which show the exceptional claims of this faithful animal. I will add that the fine dog belonging to the owner of the Tower, for which mademoiselle feels such a strong liking, is, according to his master,--he didn't tell me so, but his old servant has often heard him say it,--it seems, endowed with this faculty of divining affection or hatred, of which I have just cited to you some extraordinary proofs. Thus Ami, when in the presence of strangers, divines their feeling for his master; he fawns on those who are inclined to like him; he growls and grumbles at those who would rather do him an injury than a good turn.

"You must agree, madame, that such a dog is exceedingly valuable; with him it is impossible to be led astray by the manifestations of affection we receive from a person; he unmasks false friends and unfaithful or deceitful women. Many people would pay an exorbitant price for such an animal, and in my opinion they would make a mistake, for it would be very melancholy to know the truth always."

Honorine and Agathe listened to the doctor with interest, so that he went away well pleased with their society.

"Good!" exclaimed the girl when he had gone, "it isn't a bore to listen to him. Now I would like right well to meet the dog from the Tower and see whether he will fawn on me as he did the other time."

"For my part," said Honorine, "I am curious to see this little boy, whom they call the lost child."

"And who is said to be so naughty."

"Ah! my dear girl, we must forgive him much; his parents deserted him."

A COW

Not long after this day of visits, on one of those lovely mornings which invite one to wander about the country, the heat not being sufficient as yet to make walking tiresome, the two friends, who had finished breakfast at nine o'clock because they rose at six, took their straw bonnets, threw light silk mantles over their shoulders, and having instructed Poucette not to leave the house, started off in high spirits, saying:

"We will walk in the direction of the Tower."

Agathe remembered the road, which they had already taken once. On leaving Chelles they crossed the railroad and followed the Gournay road bordered by ditches full of water. That road was short; on turning to the left they soon reached the bank of the Marne at the bridge where there was a toll of one sou for each person. This charge, apparently very trifling, made that part of the country very unfrequented; for the peasant looks a long while before spending a sou--two, in fact, when one is obliged to return; they preferred to take a route which was often much longer, but which did not force them to put their hands into their pockets.

The two friends crossed the bridge; since leaving Chelles they had not met a living soul--not a peasant, not a carter, not an ass. The bridge, which was long and solidly built, was also deserted. Nor was there a sign of life on the Marne--not a boat, not a fisherman was to be seen.

But they had already observed that solitude the first time that they had come in that direction; and now that the aspect of the country was changed, the trees having renewed their foliage, the meadows their verdure, the fields their grasses and flowers, the more solitary the spot, the more inclined they were to admire all the majesty of nature, all the beauties of creation.

"Why, we were misinformed as to having to pay to cross this bridge!" said Agathe; "here we are at the end of it, and I see no one at all. Do you suppose we are to toss the sou into the water; that would be decidedly amusing."

The words were hardly out of her mouth when a man suddenly appeared in front of her. He came from a house at the left which belonged to a beautiful estate called the Maison Blanche, of which this same man was the concierge; to this function he added that of collector of tolls at the bridge.

"Monsieur," said Honorine, after paying her two sous, "which road must we take to go to the estate called the Tower?"

"Pass through the village of Gournay, straight ahead, then turn to the left."

"Is it very far?"

"It's close by. The village of Gournay's so small that it don't take long to walk through it; then you take the road to Noisy-le-Grand."

The two young women walked on, and soon found themselves in the village square, where there was a pretty bourgeois house embellished with the name of the Ch?teau Vert, probably because of the color of its blinds.

Next to it was a dealer in wines, the only one in the district; which fact spoke well for the sobriety of the people.

Opposite was a little church and beside that a small cemetery. The toll-gatherer was right: everything was diminutive in that place, which had less than a hundred and thirty inhabitants.

The little square was shaded by noble trees which gave it a charm of its own. Trees are not proud; they grow as well in a small village as on the fashionable promenade of a city; ordinarily indeed they are finer in the village; everything has its compensations.

Our travellers found some children on the square, who pointed out the road to Noisy-le-Grand. As they walked in that direction the country became more picturesque, less monotonous, and the ladies soon spied, on a slight eminence, a very pretty house, flanked by a graceful turret which overlooked the whole country.

"That is where Paul and his dog live!" cried Agathe.

"Hush, child!" said Honorine; "if that gentleman should happen to be passing, and should hear you speak of him in that way, what would he think of us?"

"Why, my dear love, I am simply repeating what they say at Chelles; how do you want me to speak of him, since nobody knows him by any other name? No matter, this estate of his makes a very fine appearance; it's like a ch?teau. Let us walk along this road--it will bring us nearer."

As she spoke Agathe ran ahead. Honorine followed her, but more slowly. They were then on rather a narrow road, shaded on one side by walnut trees, and intersected by numerous paths.

Suddenly Agathe heard a shriek; recognizing her friend's voice, she turned and saw, about a hundred yards behind her, a cow coming from one of the paths, at full speed, and rushing straight at Honorine, who had an excessive fear of cows and dared not advance or retreat; she simply stood where she was and shrieked.

Agathe instantly ran back, to try to protect her friend; but she was too far away to reach her in advance of the cow, and the animal was within a few feet of Honorine, when suddenly an enormous dog, rushing down from a hill near by, arrived on the scene and jumped in front of the cow, barking furiously as if to forbid her to take another step. Ami's frantic barking--for it was Ami who had come to their assistance--did in fact terrify the cow; she stopped, turned tail and retreated by the path by which she had come.

"Oh! thanks! thanks! good dog!" cried Agathe, who had been terribly frightened for her friend, and who came up at that moment. But Honorine's fright had been so great that it had deprived her of consciousness; she had fallen to the ground in a swoon.

"Oh! mon Dieu! she is unconscious! Honorine! dear love! come to yourself! the danger is all over. She doesn't hear me--she doesn't open her eyes! And no one near! How can I obtain help here?"

Ami walked about the unconscious woman, then gazed at Agathe, who was in dire distress; he seemed to be trying to read in her eyes what she wanted of him. Suddenly he bounded away and disappeared.

The girl knelt beside her companion, raised her head and rested it against her breast, took her hands and called her name. But Honorine did not recover consciousness, and Agathe, in despair, cast her eyes over the deserted fields, crying:

"Mon Dieu! no one will come to our help!"

At that moment a small boy, poorly clad, with bare feet and hair waving in the wind, appeared on a piece of rising ground from which he could see the path.

Agathe saw him and called to him:

"Go and bring us some water, I beg you, my friend; call someone to come and help me take care of my friend."

The boy's only reply was a sneering laugh; then he went away, leaping in the air and crying:

"They're afraid of the cow! that's good! I'll throw stones at the cow again and make her run at folks."

The small boy disappeared, but the girl's wishes had been understood by Ami; he ran where he knew that he would find his master, and by pulling persistently at his jacket made him understand that it was urgently necessary that he should go with him.

When Agathe was beginning to lose hope she saw the noble beast returning toward her, while his eyes seemed to say:

"Help is coming!"

And his master was soon by his side.

"Oh! monsieur--I beg you--my dear friend has fainted!" cried Agathe.

Paul had already taken a phial from his pocket, and he held it to Honorine's nose, saying to the girl:

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