His fingers were still so feeble that
with difficulty he pressed the spring to open it.
He glanced up at his father's distinguished-looking back outlined against
the loggia's opening arches. It appeared uncompromising. A fixed
determination to stare at the oleanders below seemed the only spirit
animating this parent.
Yes--he must open the box. It gave suddenly with a jerk, and there lay a
dog's collar, made of small flexible plates of pure beaten gold, mounted on
Russian leather, all of the finest workmanship. And on a slip of paper in
his darling's own writing he read:
"This is for Pike, my beloved one; let him wear it always--a gift from me."
On the collar itself, finely engraved, were the words, "Pike, belonging to
Paul Verdayne."
Then the floodgates of Paul's numbed soul were opened, a great sob rose in
his breast. He covered his face with his hands, and cried like a child.
Oh! her dear thought! her dear, tender thought--for Pike! His little
friend!
And Sir Charles made believe he saw nothing, as he stole from the place,
his rugged face twitching a little, and his keen eyes dim.
CHAPTER XXII
They did not go north, as Sir Charles intended, an unaccountable reluctance
on Paul's part to return through Switzerland changed their plans.
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