As soon as he could change his clothes David hurried out to the menagerie tent. For many minutes he stood before the cage containing the African gazelle, fascinated by the nose and eyes of the lachrymose beast. He stared for a long time before becoming aware that the animal was looking at him just as intently from the other side of the bars. It was as if the creature with the broad white muzzle and limpid eyes was studying him with all the intentness of a human being. An uncanny feeling took possession of the boy. He laughed nervously, half expecting the solemn starer to smile in return—with the smile of Colonel Grand. But the deer's eyes did not blink or waver, nor was there the slightest deviation of its melancholy gaze.
A voice from behind addressed the lone spectator.
"Attractive brute, isn't he?"
David turned. Colonel Grand was standing a few feet away, gazing with no little interest at the occupant of the cage.
Young Jenison did not reply at once. He was momentarily occupied in a mental comparison of the two faces.
"It is our latest curiosity from the wilds of Africa," he said, his eyes hardening. A Jenison could not look with complacency on a man who, first of all, had fought against his own people, even though one Jenison had been a traitor to the cause.
"The only one in captivity," quoted the Colonel. He had the smooth, dry voice of a practiced man of the world.
"That's what they say on the bills, sir." He was walking away when the other, with some acerbity, called to him.
"What's your name?"
"Snipe, sir," said David, after a second's hesitation.