She showed him a red jay; a tiny gold-crest perched on a thorn branch; a kingfisher gleaming with turquoise hues, poised ready for a dive upon a froth-lapped stone. He was no cultured critic, but he knew the ways of the wild creatures and saw that she had talent, for her representations of them were instinct with life.
They were interrupted by a scratching at the door and when she opened it a white setter hobbled awkwardly in and curled itself at her feet.
“He’s rather a big dog for the house, but I can’t keep him away from me,” she explained. “As you see, he has lost a foot, in a trap, and he was marked for destruction when I asked for him. Sometimes I think he knows that I saved his life.”
The dog looked up and raising a paw scraped at her hand, until she opened it, when he thrust his chin into her palm. It was a trivial incident, but it somehow stirred the man.
“Now I know where you got power to draw these lesser brethren,” he said. “Study alone would never have given it to you.”
She let this pass. He was almost embarrassing in his directness, though she acquitted him of any crude intention of flattering her.
“I promised to let you read my brother’s diary,” she reminded him. “If you will wait a few moments, I’ll get it.”
The dog pattered after her, as though unwilling to remain out of her sight, and she came back presently with a small leather case and opening it took out a tattered notebook. Noticing how she handled it and that the case was beautifully made, Lisle fancied that it was precious to her, in which he was correct. Indeed, she was then wondering why she had volunteered to show it to this stranger when only two of her intimate friends had seen it.
“Thank you,” he said, when she gave it to him; and drawing his chair nearer the window he began to read.
Though he was already acquainted with most of it, the story gripped him. On the surface, it was merely a plain record of a hazardous and laborious journey; but to one gifted with understanding it was more than this—a vivid narrative of a struggle waged against physical suffering, weakness, and hunger, by optimistic human nature. An odd word here, a line or two in another place, was eloquent of simple, steadfast courage and endurance; and even when the weakening man clearly knew that his end was near there was no outbreak of desperation or sign of faltering. He had dragged himself onward to the last, indomitable.