"Eric Dournay."
The boy started; he thought he had heard the name within a few days, but was not quite sure.
"You are a Captain of Artillery, sir?" said he, pointing to the uniform.
"I have been. Then you know the different uniforms, my boy."
"Yes; but Herr von Pranken doesn't speak to me so familiarly."
"I think we had better both keep up the familiar manner that we began with," answered Eric, holding out his hand to the boy. Roland's hand was cold, all his blood had rushed to his head. The boy was surprised and taken captive in spite of himself.
"If you like," he began again, "you can have one of my puppies. Two I mean to keep; one I shall bring up for my sister Manna; Baron von Pranken is to have the fourth, and you may have the fifth."
His face beaming with satisfaction, Eric looked at the boy; this pleasure in giving showed that there was something good to build upon.
"Perhaps you know that in Homer the host does honor to a guest by bestowing some gift as a token of remembrance."
"I know nothing about Homer."