At this point she heard a step on the gravel outside; Bismarck uttered a bloodhound bay and got under the sofa. It was a sunny morning in late October, and the French window was open; outside it, ragged as a Russian poodle and nearly as black, stood the tinker who had the day before wielded the frying-pan with such effect.
“Me lady,” began the tinker, “I ax yer ladyship’s pardon, but me little dog is dead.”
“Well?” said Mrs. Alexander, fixing a gaze of clear grey rectitude upon him.
“Me lady,” continued the tinker, reverentially but firmly, “’twas afther he was run by thim dogs yestherday, and ’twas your ladyship’s dog that finished him. He tore the throat out of him under the bed!” He pointed an accusing forefinger at Bismarck, whose lambent eyes of terror glowed from beneath the valance of the sofa.
“Nonsense! I saw your dog; he was twice my dog’s size,” said Bismarck’s mistress decidedly, not, however, without a remembrance of the blood on Bismarck’s nose. She adored courage, and had always cherished a belief that Bismarck’s sharklike jaws implied the possession of latent ferocity.
“Ah, but he was very wake, ma’am, afther he bein’ hunted,” urged the tinker. “I never slep’ a wink the whole night, but keepin’ sups o’ milk to him and all sorts. Ah, ma’am, ye wouldn’t like to be lookin’ at him!”
The tinker was a very good-looking young man, almost apostolic in type, with a golden red aureole of hair and beard and candid blue eyes. These latter filled with tears as their owner continued:—
“He was like a brother for me; sure he follied me from home. ’Twas he was dam wise! Sure at home all me mother’d say to him was, “Where’s the ducks, Captain?” an’ he wouldn’t lave wather nor bog-hole round the counthry but he’d have them walked and the ducks gethered. The pigs could be in their choice place, wherever they’d be he’d go around them. If ye’d tell him to put back the childhren from the fire, he’d ketch them by the sleeve and dhrag them.”
The requiem ceased, and the tinker looked grievingly into his hat.
“What is your name?” asked Mrs. Alexander sternly. “How long is it since you left home?”