Guido did not move; he leaned easily back in his chair sipping his coffee.
“Many thanks,” he answered, with a half laugh; “perhaps you forget that last time I did so he nearly tore me to pieces. If you do not object, I would rather Giacomo undertook the task.”
“After such an account of the animal’s conduct, perhaps the conte will not care to see him. It is true enough,” turning to me as she spoke, “Wyvis has taken a great dislike to Signor Ferrari—and yet he is a good-natured dog, and plays with my little girl all day if she goes to him. Do you feel inclined to see him? Yes?” And, as I bowed in the affirmative, she rang a little bell twice, and the butler appeared.
“Giacomo,” she continued, “unloose Wyvis and send him here.”
Giacomo gave me another of those timid questioning glances, and departed to execute his order. In another five minutes, the howling had suddenly ceased, a long, lithe, black, shadowy creature came leaping wildly across the moonlighted lawn—Wyvis was racing at full speed. He paid no heed to his mistress or Ferrari; he rushed straight to me with a yelp of joy. His huge tail wagged incessantly, he panted thirstily with excitement, he frisked round and round my chair, he abased himself and kissed my feet and hands, he rubbed his stately head fondly against my knee. His frantic demonstrations of delight were watched by my wife and Ferrari with utter astonishment. I observed their surprise, and said lightly:
“I told you how it would be! It is nothing remarkable, I assure you. All dogs treat me in the same way.”
And I laid my hand on the animal’s neck with a commanding pressure; he lay down at once, only now and then raising his large wistful brown eyes to my face as though he wondered what had changed it so greatly. But no disguise could deceive his intelligence—the faithful creature knew his master. Meantime I thought Nina looked pale; certainly the little jeweled white hand nearest to me shook slightly.
“Are you afraid of this noble animal, madame?” I asked, watching her closely. She laughed, a little forcedly.
“Oh, no! But Wyvis is usually so shy with strangers, and I never saw him greet any one so rapturously except my late husband. It is really very odd!”
Ferrari, by his looks, agreed with her, and appeared to be uneasily considering the circumstance.