The dog looked up at her, wide-mouthed and with tongue hanging. But he did not offer to molest her. He only dropped his head again, and with his pink tongue sought to lap up the moisture from the stones.
"The collar, Dolge," commanded Madame la Countess.
The old man hobbled forward with the wide leather strap attached to the chain. The strap was decorated with big brass rivet heads. She buckled it around the neck of the panting dog. He lapped her hands.
"Ah, naughty one," she murmured, "would you run the fields like a wild dog? The blanket, Dolge. He may take cold."
Already the gardener was bringing the covering. They fastened it about Bubu, who finally shook himself and would have lain down had not the countess said sharply:
"Nay, nay! All is not yet finished, Bubu. Open thy mouth—so!"
She forced open the big dog's jaws. Rather, at a touch he allowed her to hold his dripping jaws apart.
"Dolge!" she demanded decisively, "can you see?"
"Oui, oui, Madame!" the old man chattered, shaking his head vigorously. "But not for me will he keep his jaws apart. I am not to be made into sausage-meat, I hope?"
The countess laughed at him. "Hold his mouth open, then. He would not desire to bite; but——"