CHAPTER VIII.
I was obliged to halt. I felt as if trying to drag a heavily laden wagon up the hill.
But let me proceed. I have many a steep path yet to climb.
I stood with the girl on the highway. I extended my hand and uttered a few words of welcome, but they did not come from the heart. Our wayward son had imposed a great burden on us. The young maiden appeared to pay no attention to what I was saying, but looked about in every direction. As it was dusk, I could not see her distinctly. I could perceive, however, that she was a powerful creature. She did not regulate her step by mine, but I was forced to keep step with her unless I wished to be left behind.
"What dog is this running after us?" said I.
"It is my dog. Isn't it so, Pincher? Aren't you my dog?"
The dog answered with a bark, and kept running back and forth, now up the road and now down. When she whistled to him, in huntsman's style, he obeyed.
"Master," asked she, without resting a moment while speaking, "and does all as far as the eye can reach belong to you?"
"Why do you inquire?"
"Why? because I want to know. It must be jolly here in the daytime."