“Hobbs, sir, at your sarvice.”
“Well, Hobbs, if you have a steady-going horse, have him put to a dogcart, and find a careful boy to drive Mr. Quin to the village.”
“Yes, sir. Old Dick will be the hoss and Young Sandy the driver. I’ll go and give the order.”
The groom went across the yard on his errand, while Ran and Dandy walked off to the kennels to look at the dogs.
“Not one on ’em to be compared to your Tip or my Lion, Mr. Hay, in my poor opinion!” said Dandy.
“These cannot excel ours in courage, or affection, or fidelity, I am sure,” replied Ran.
And both men gave deep sighs to the memory of the faithful creatures they had been compelled by circumstances to leave behind them at the fort, where, it is true, the two dogs were sure of the kindest treatment from their new owners—Surgeon Hill, who had adopted Tip, and Adjutant Rose, who had taken Lion.
“Do you think we will ever see them again, Mr. Hay?”
“Yes, I do. In this world or the next.”
“The next! Mr. Hay, sir!”