Dr. Medjora examined Lossy carefully, and looked very grave. Presently he looked up, and placing one hand tenderly on Leon's head, he spoke softly:
"Be brave, my lad. Many such bitter moments as this must be borne through life. You must meet them like a courageous man."
"There is no hope?" sobbed Leon.
"None! He is dying now! See how faint his respirations are?"
With a cry of anguish Leon fell to his knees and gazed into his dog's eyes. He patted the head lying so limp and listless, and in response poor Lossy made one feeble effort. He gazed back into his master's face, and Leon ever afterward claimed that, in that last lingering look, he detected the living soul which was about to depart from his dying dog. Lossy painfully opened his mouth and protruded his tongue so that it barely touched Leon's hand in the old-time affectionate salutation, and the soul of the dog departed for that realm beyond the veil.
Leon leaned forward a moment, with his ear to the dog's heart, listening for an answering vibration, which would indicate that life yet lingered, but, receiving none, with a cry he fell forward to the floor and burst into uncontrollable sobs.
Doctor Medjora, wise physician that he was, made no futile effort to restrain these tears, knowing them to be the best outlet for natural grief. With a glance filled with tender love for his protégé, he unlocked the door and passed out unobserved, leaving Leon with all that remained of the Marquis of Lossy.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DISCOVERY.
Early in the morning of the same day upon which Leon had offered himself to Agnes, Madame Medjora, reading her Herald, had at last found the long-awaited personal, "Come," the signal which she had arranged with the detective. Immediately after breakfast, therefore, she had started forth to learn what had been discovered.