Mary stood learning a lesson. It was just underneath John Ericson's statue that this happened. She looked up at the statue, looked into John Ericson's kind, thoughtful eyes, until tears filled her own. She was utterly miserable.
Jörgen was engrossed with the dog. The animal's education was conducted on the principle that he must never be allowed to have his own will when it conflicted with his master's. "Come here, you little rogue," said Jörgen ingratiatingly. The dog was so surprised that he stopped in the middle of his game. "Good dog! come along!" He made one or two joyful bounds in Jörgen's direction; he remembered the good times they had had together—perhaps such a time awaited him now. But, whatever the reason, doubt seized him—he turned back and was soon between his dirty friend's paws again, both of them sprawling in the mud.
The passers-by stopped, amused by the animal's disobedience. This annoyed Jörgen. Mary knew it, and made an attempt to save the dog. Standing behind Jörgen, she said softly in French: "It is not fair first to coax and then to strike." Her words only made him more obstinate. "This is a matter you don't understand," he answered, also in French, and continued coaxing.
With the short-sighted trustfulness common to sweet-tempered puppies, the dog stopped in his game and looked at Jörgen. Jörgen, with his stick behind his back, advanced persuasively. He was furious at the laughter of the onlookers, but muffled his rage in soft words. "Come on, old fellow, come on!"
"Don't believe him!" shouted an English sailor. But it was too late. Jörgen had hold of one of the long ears. The dog howled; Jörgen must have pinched hard. Mary called in French: "Don't beat him!" Jörgen struck—not hard; but the terrified puppy yelled piercingly. He struck again—not hard this time either; it was done chiefly to annoy them all. The dog howled so pitifully that Mary could not bear to look in that direction. Gazing into John Ericson's good, kind eyes, she said: "These blows have separated you and me, Jörgen!"
Instantaneously he let the dog go and stood up. He saw her eyes flame; her cheeks were white; she held herself erect and faced him—above her John Ericson's head.
A moment later, and she had turned her back on him and was walking quickly away, with light, glad steps—the dog following.
The onlookers laughed, the English sailors derisively; Jörgen started in pursuit.
But when Mary saw that the dog was following her and not him, and that the creature's eyes sought hers to learn what she intended to do, the fear she had felt before turned into wild exhilaration. Such revulsions of feeling were not uncommon with her. She clapped her hands and ran, and the dog sprang along at her side, barking. The spell was broken, the disgrace was cast from her! Farewell to Jörgen and all his ways!
"That's what we are saying, my little rescuer, eh?" The dog barked.