The organ-grinder held out his cap.
"I don't think much of your dog's dancing," said Gabriel, looking him in the eye. "I could make him do better, myself."
"It doesn't do to use the whip too much," replied the organ-grinder, but Gabriel had already gone on his knees beside the dog and whispered to him. Instantly the little creature went into a transport of delight. Bounding to the boy's breast, it clung there so closely that Gabriel gave up the experiment that he had intended of trying to show the organ-man how his slave could dance.
Rising, Gabriel held the panting Topaz in his arms. "I declare," he said aloud, "I declare this to be the princess's lost dog."
The organ-grinder scowled and grew pale. "'Tis a lie," he cried, "hers was a golden dog."
"This is a golden dog," said Gabriel.
Even the gentleman-in-waiting was impressed by the certainty of the boy's voice. The organ-grinder turned to the officer and shook his fist. "'Tis that boy again!" he cried. "If this is the princess's dog, that boy stole him. As for me, I found the poor creature, friendless and lost, and I took pity on him."
"Why, then, did you stain his coat?" asked Gabriel.
The organ-grinder looked wildly up and down the street. For some reason he felt that a silver coin would not affect the officer of the law to-day.
The gentleman-in-waiting pointed sternly at the culprit. "Take him away," he said to the officer. "Should this prove to be indeed the princess's dog, he has committed treason."