"S. V.," repeated Captain Hull. "But those are precisely the letters which are on Dingo"s collar!"
Then, all at once, turning to the old black: "Tom," he asked, "have you not told me that this dog only belonged to the captain of the "Waldeck"
for a short time?"
"In fact, sir," replied Tom, "Dingo was only on board two years at the most."
"And have you not added that the captain of the "Waldeck" had picked up this dog on the western coast of Africa?"
"Yes, sir, in the neighborhood of the mouth of the Congo. I have often heard the captain say so."
"So," asked Captain Hull, "it has never been known to whom this dog had belonged, nor whence it came?"
"Never, sir. A dog found is worse than a child! That has no papers, and, more, it cannot explain."
Captain Hull was silent, and reflected.
"Do those two letters, then, awake some remembrance?" Mrs. Weldon asked Captain Hull, after leaving him to his reflections for some moments.
"Yes, Mrs. Weldon, a remembrance, or rather a coincidence at least singular."
What?"
"Those two letters might well have a meaning, and fix for us the fate of an intrepid traveler."
"What do you mean?" demanded Mrs. Weldon.
"Here is what I mean, Mrs. Weldon. In 1871--consequently two years ago--a French traveler set out, under the auspices of the Paris Geographical Society, with the intention of crossing Africa from the west to the east. His point of departure was precisely the mouth of the Congo. His point of arrival would be as near as possible to Cape Deldago, at the mouths of the Rovuma, whose course he would descend.
Now, this French traveler was named Samuel Vernon."
"Samuel Vernon!" repeated Mrs. Weldon.
"Yes, Mrs. Weldon; and those two names begin precisely by those two letters which Dingo has chosen among all the others, and which are engraved on its collar."
"Exactly," replied Mrs. Weldon. "And that traveler----"
"That traveler set out," replied Captain Hull, "and has not been heard of since his departure."
"Never?" said the novice.
"Never," repeated Captain Hull.
"What do you conclude from it?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"That, evidently, Samuel Vernon has not been able to reach the eastern coast of Africa, whether he may have been made prisoner by the natives, whether death may have struck him on the way."
"And then this dog?"
"This dog would have belonged to him; and, more fortunate than its master, if my hypothesis is true, it would have been able to return to the Congo coast, because it was there, at the time when these events must have taken place, that it was picked up by the captain of the "Waldeck.""
"But," observed Mrs. Weldon, "do you know if this French traveler was accompanied on his departure by a dog? Is it not a mere supposition on your part?"
"It is only a supposition, indeed, Mrs. Weldon," replied Captain Hull.
"But what is certain is, that Dingo knows these two letters S and V, which are precisely the initials of the two names of the French traveler. Now, under what circ.u.mstances this animal would learn to distinguish them is what I cannot explain; but, I repeat it, it very certainly knows them; and look, it pushes them with its paw, and seems to invite us to read them with it."
In fact, they could not misunderstand Dingo"s intention.
"Then was Samuel Vernon alone when he left the sea-coast of the Congo?"
ask d.i.c.k Sand.
"That I know not," replied Captain Hull. "However, it is probable that he would take a native escort."
At that moment Negoro, leaving his post, showed himself on the deck. At first no one remarked his presence, and could not observe the singular look he cast on the dog when he perceived the two letters over which the animal seem to mount guard. But Dingo, having perceived the master-cook, began to show signs of the most extreme fury.
Negoro returned immediately to the crew"s quarters, not without a menacing gesture at the dog"s skill having escaped him.
"There is some mystery there," murmured Captain Hull, who had lost none of this little scene.
"But, sir," said the novice, "is it not very astonishing that a dog should know the letters of the alphabet?"
"No!" cried little Jack. "Mama has often told me the story of a dog which knew how to read and write, and even play dominoes, like a real schoolmaster!"
"My dear child," replied Mrs. Weldon, smiling, "that dog, whose name was Munito, was not a savant, as you suppose. If I may believe what has been told me about it, Munito would not have been able to distinguish the letters which served to compose the words. But its master, a clever American, having remarked what fine hearing Munito had, applied himself to cultivating that sense, and to draw from it some very curious effects."
"How did he set to work, Mrs. Weldon?" asked d.i.c.k Sand, whom the history interested almost as much as little Jack.
"In this way, my friend." When Munito was "to appear" before the public, letters similar to these were displayed on a table. On that table the poodle walked about, waiting till a word was proposed, whether in a loud voice or in a low voice. Only, one essential condition was that its master should know the word."
"And, in the absence of its master--" said the novice.
"The dog could have done nothing," replied Mrs. Weldon, "and here is the reason. The letters spread out on the table, Munito walked about through this alphabet. When it arrived before the letter which it should choose to form the word required, it stopped; but if it stopped it was because it heard the noise--imperceptible to all others--of a toothpick that the American snapped in his pocket. That noise was the signal for Munito to take the letter and arrange it in suitable order."
"And that was all the secret?" cried d.i.c.k Sand.
"That was the whole secret," replied Mrs. Weldon. "It is very simple, like all that is done in the matter of prestidigitation. In case of the American"s absence, Munito would be no longer Munito. I am, then, astonished, his master not being there--if, indeed, the traveler, Samuel Vernon, has ever been its master--that Dingo could have recognized those two letters."
"In fact," replied Captain Hull, "it is very astonishing. But, take notice, there are only two letters in question here, two particular letters, and not a word chosen by chance. After all, that dog which rang at the door of a convent to take possession of the plate intended for the poor pa.s.sers-by, that other which commissioned at the same time with one of its kind, to turn the spit for two days each, and which refused to fill that office when its turn had not come, those two dogs, I say, advanced farther than Dingo into that domain of intelligence reserved for man. Besides, we are in the presence of an inscrutable fact. Of all the letters of that alphabet, Dingo has only chosen these two: S and V. The others it does not even seem to know. Therefore we must conclude that, for a reason which escapes us, its attention has been especially drawn to those two letters."
"Ah! Captain Hull," replied the young novice, "if Dingo could speak!
Perhaps he would tell us what those two letters signify, and why it has kept a tooth ready for our head cook."
"And what a tooth!" replied Captain Hull, as Dingo, opening its mouth, showed its formidable fangs.
CHAPTER VI.