Already, he was offering himself on the altar of the child’s safety. Behind his smiles lay something of the glow of the martyr. His eyes were sunken, his lips drawn. He had not slept at all, nor eaten. But to the boy he meant to show no failing, to be the prince of playmates, the brother of joy. Perhaps in this way, he felt, lay his justification.
So now, with the Crown Prince facing toward the Palace again, toward luncheon with his aunt and a meeting with the delegation, Nikky, like an epicure of sensations, said: “By the way, Otto, I found that dog you saw yesterday. What was his name? Toto?”
“Where did you find him? Yes, Toto!”
“I looked him up,” said Nikky modestly. “You see, it’s like this: He’s a pretty nice dog. There aren’t many dogs like him. And I thought—well, nobody can say I can’t have a dog.”
“You’ve got him? You, yourself?”
“I, myself. I dare say he has fleas, and they will get in the carpet, but—I tell you what I thought: He will be really your dog, do you see? I’ll take care of him, and keep him for you, and bring him out to walk where you can see him. Then, when they say you may have a dog, you’ve got one, already. All I have to do is to bring him to you.”
Wise Nikky, of the understanding boy’s heart. He had brought into the little Prince’s life its first real interest, something vital, living. And something of the soreness and hurt of the last few hours died in Nikky before Prince Ferdinand William Otto’s smile.
“Oh, Nikky!” was all the child said at first, and grew silent for very happiness. Then: “We can talk about him. You can tell me all the things he does, and I can send him bones, can’t I? Unless you don’t care to carry them.”
This, in passing, explains the reason why, to the eyes of astonished servants, from that day forth the Crown Prince of Livonia apparently devoured his chop, bone and all. And why Nikky resembled, at times, a well-setup, trig, and soldierly appearing charnel-house. “If I am ever arrested,” he once demurred, “and searched, Highness, I shall be consigned to a madhouse.”
Luncheon was extremely unsuccessful. His Cousin Hedwig looked as though she had been crying, and Hilda, eating her soup too fast, was sent from the table. The Crown Prince, trying to make conversation, chose Nikky as his best subject, and met an icy silence. Also, attempting to put the bone from a chicken leg in his pocket, he was discovered.