“Oh, the hateful wretch!” cried Jules.
“In the meantime the dog couched on its master’s grave, where night and day it howled with grief. When the pangs of hunger pressed too hard it returned to Paris, scratched at the door of its master’s friends, hastily ate what was given it, and immediately went back to the wood to lie down again on the grave. Seeing it thus come and go alone, always [[230]]oppressed with care and manifesting by doleful barks some deep grief, people followed it into the forest, watched its actions, and saw that it stopped on a mound of freshly turned earth, where its lamentations became still more plaintive.”
“No doubt they dug and the crime was discovered?”
“Struck with the fresh mound of earth and the dog’s howls at this spot, they dug and found the dead man, to whom a more honorable burial was then given; but there was nothing to make them suspect the author of the murder.”
“And what became of the dog?” asked Emile.
“After having thus apprized Aubry’s friends and relatives that its master had been miserably assassinated, there remained a more difficult task for it to accomplish; namely, to expose the murderer. A relative of the dead man had adopted the dog and was in the habit of taking the animal out with him when he went to walk. One day the dog chanced to spy the assassin, Macaire, in company with other gentlemen. To leap at his throat for the purpose of biting and strangling him, was the affair of an instant.”
“Bravo! Good dog! Strangle the rascal!” cried Emile in great excitement.
“You are going too fast, my friend,” his uncle remonstrated. “No one as yet suspected that Macaire was the author of the horrible crime. They draw off the dog, beat it, and drive it away. The animal keeps returning in a rage, and as it is not allowed to come near it struggles, barks from a [[231]]distance, and directs its threats toward the quarter where Macaire has disappeared.
“This performance is repeated again and again, and on each occasion the dog, perfectly gentle toward every other person, is seized with violent rage at the sight of the murderer and recommences its assaults. It is against Macaire alone that it nurses a grudge which neither threats nor blows can appease. Such is the creature’s fury that finally the query arises whether the dog may not be actuated by a desire to avenge the death of its first master.”
“Ha! now we are coming to it. Suspicion is aroused.”