CHAPTER III
THE ALCHEMIST
Something heavy but kindly fell upon Joseph’s shoulders and something light touched his cheek.
Looking up quickly from a survey of his garments, now more ragged and dusty than ever, he perceived that the weight was the hand of the man in black and that the lightness had been a kiss upon his cheek from the man’s companion,—her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright and her lips were still close to him. He was somewhat dazed from the shock of going to earth so quickly with the dog, but he thrilled with pleasure and happiness from the kindly touch and the kiss.
He stepped back to brush himself, and then gazed squarely at the man and girl.
His cheeks grew rosy with that first meeting of eyes. For in the man’s there was an ocean of gratitude and a suggestion of a tear, and the girl’s eyes blazed forth frank admiration.
“You were so quick,” she exclaimed. “Would that I could spring like that. It was brave of you——”
His tongue found no words. Boys of fifteen, even if aged by experience, have little to say when praise is bestowed so freely.
Moreover the man gave him no opportunity. “Remarkable,” he said, “remarkable. As swift a leap as I ever saw,” and then blinking with his eyes as if the light hurt them, added, “or hope to see.”
“It was nothing,” Joseph stammered. “Often in the Ukraine I have dispersed dogs in a fight.” And then thinking that this perhaps sounded like boasting, said further, “As do many boys of my age in that country.”
“From the Ukraine?” The man in black looked at him with interest. “How do you happen to be so far from home?”