“Yes, certainly,” replied Frere; “that is, if you can persuade him to stay quietly, and bind him over to keep the peace till we return.”
“That is soon accomplished,” rejoined Lewis, and calling the dog to him, he dropped a glove on the floor and uttered some German word of command, when the well-trained animal immediately laid down with the glove between his huge paws.
“Caution your old lady not to interfere with the glove,” he continued, “or Faust will assuredly throttle her.”
“What, is he touchy on that head?” inquired Grandeville, poising himself on one leg while he endeavoured to kick the glove away with the other. A growl like that of an angry tiger, and the display of a set of teeth of which a dentist or a crocodile might equally have been proud, induced him to draw back his foot with rather more celerity than was altogether in keeping with the usual dignity of his movements.
“The dog has not such a bad notion of producing a moral impression,” said Leicester, laughing. “Don’t you think he might be useful to us to-night?”
“Ar—now, there is nothing I should like better than to take that glove away from him,” observed Grandeville, casting a withering glance on Faust. “Ar—I wish I had time.”
“I wish you had,” returned Lewis dryly.
“Why, do you think it would be so mighty difficult?” retorted Grandeville.
“When Rudolph Arnheim, a fellow-student of mine, tried the experiment, I had some trouble in choking Faust off before the dog had quite throttled him,” was the reply. “Rudolph is no child, and had a heavy wager depending on it.”
“Ar—well, I can’t see any great difficulty in the thing, but it depends on a man’s nerve, of course. Now, are we ready?”