De Narsac knew the animal without looking at the collar on its neck. It was Dragon, his friend Aubrey’s greyhound,—the dog who went with him whenever he walked out, the dog who was never seen save in its master’s company.
The poor creature tried to stand. His legs trembled from weakness; he swayed from side to side. He wagged his tail feebly, and tried to put his nose in De Narsac’s hand. De Narsac saw at once that he was half starved; that he had not had food for a long time.
He led the dog into his room and fed him some warm milk. He bathed the poor fellow’s nose and bloodshot eyes with cold water. “Tell me where is your master,” he said. Then he set before him a full meal that would have tempted any dog.
The greyhound ate heartily, and seemed to be much stronger. He licked De Narsac’s hands. He fondled his feet. Then he ran to the door and tried to make signs to his friend to follow him. He whined pitifully.
De Narsac understood. “You want to lead me to your master, I see.” He put on his hat and went out with the dog.
Through the narrow lanes and crooked streets of the old city, Dragon led the way. At each corner he would stop and look back to make sure that De Narsac was following. He went over the long bridge—the only one that spanned the river in those days. Then he trotted out through the gate of St. Martin and into the open country beyond the walls.
In a little while the dog left the main road and took a bypath that led into the forest of Bondy. De Narsac kept his hand on his sword now, for they were on dangerous ground. The forest was a great resort for robbers and lawless men, and more than one wild and wicked deed had been enacted there.
But Dragon did not go far into the woods. He stopped suddenly near a dense thicket of briers and tangled vines. He whined as though in great distress. Then he took hold of the sleeve of De Narsac’s coat, and led him round to the other side of the thicket.
There under a low-spreading oak the grass had been trampled down; there were signs, too, of freshly turned-up earth. With moans of distress the dog stretched himself upon the ground, and with pleading eyes looked up into De Narsac’s face.
“Ah, my poor fellow!” said De Narsac, “you have led me here to show me your master’s grave.” And with that he turned and hurried back to the city; but the dog would not stir from his place.