"_For G.o.d hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power and of love and of a sound mind._"
Much comforted, Gabriel put the dear book back in its hiding-place, and taking his small bundle, left the barn, the dog bounding after him.
No sooner had the children of the house seen them coming than they ran forth to meet them, singing and whistling and crying upon Topaz to dance, but the dog kept his golden eyes upon his master and noticed no one beside.
The mother came to the door with a much pleasanter face than she had worn yesterday.
"You may go to the pump yonder and wash yourself," she said; and Gabriel obeyed gladly, wiping his face upon the gra.s.s that grew long and rank about the well.
The clean face was such a good one that when the woman saw it she hushed the children. "Be still until they have had some breakfast," she said, "then the dog will dance again."
So Gabriel and Topaz had a comfortable meal which they enjoyed, and afterward the boy whistled and the dog danced with a good heart, and the children danced too, for very pleasure. They were all so happy that Gabriel for the moment forgot his errand.
"If you will sell your dog I will buy him," said the woman, at last, for the children had given her no peace when they lay down nor when they rose up, until she had promised to make this offer.
Gabriel looked at her frankly, and a shadow fell over his bright face.
"Alas, madam, he is not mine to sell."
"Where dwells his master, then?"
"That I know not, for he had strayed and I found him and must restore him if I can."
""Tis a fool"s errand," said the woman, who liked the dog herself, and, moreover, saw that there was money in his nimble feet. "I will give you as many coppers as you can carry in your cap if you will leave him here and go your way and say nothing about it to any one."
Gabriel shook his head. "Alas, madam, he is not mine," was all the woman could induce him to say, and she thought his sadness was at the thought of the cap full of pence which she believed he dared not accept for fear of getting into trouble. Little she knew that if only the golden dog were Gabriel"s very own, no money could buy from the boy the one heart on earth that beat warmly for him, and the graceful, gay coat of flossy silk which he loved to caress; so the farmer"s wife and children were obliged to let the couple go.
Gabriel had seen, the night before, a creek that wandered through the meadow, and before entering the town he ran to it and, pulling off his clothes, jumped in and took a good swim. Barking with delight, Topaz joined in this new frolic, splashing and swimming about like the jolly little water dog that he was.
When, at last, they came out and were dried, and Gabriel was dressed, they were a fresh looking pair that started out for the town.
Now Gabriel was not so stupid as his brothers believed, and, as he said over to himself the verse he had read that morning in the barn, and looked at Topaz, so winsomely shining after his bath, he began to see how unwise it would be to tell every one he met that he was searching for Topaz"s owner. There were people in the world, he knew, who would not scruple to pretend that such a pretty creature was their own, even if they had never seen him before; so Gabriel determined to be very careful and to know that G.o.d would give him power and a sound mind, if he would not be afraid, as the Book of Life had said.
Now the two entered the town; but from the moment their feet struck the pavements, Topaz"s manner changed. He kept so close to Gabriel that the boy often came near to stepping on him.
"What ails you, little one?" asked Gabriel, perplexed by his companion"s strange actions. "Don"t you know that you are going home?"
But Topaz did not bark a reply. His feathery tail hung down. He looked at Gabriel only from the tops of his eyes as he clung close to his heels, and he even seemed to the boy to tremble when they crossed the busy streets.
"You mustn"t be afraid, Topaz," said Gabriel stoutly. "No one likes a coward."
But Topaz only clung the closer, sometimes looking from left to right, fearfully. At last his actions were so strange that Gabriel took him up under his arm. "Perhaps if we meet his owner he can see him the better so,"
thought the boy, and he looked questioningly into the faces of men, women, and children as they pa.s.sed him by. No one did more than stare at him after observing the beautiful head that looked out from under his arm.
One good-natured man smiled in pa.s.sing and said to Gabriel: "Going to the palace, I suppose."
This remark astonished the boy very much, and he looked around after the man.
Now there had been some one following Gabriel for the last five minutes, and when he looked around, this person, who was an organ-grinder, quickly turned his back and began grinding out a tune. At the first sound of it Topaz started and trembled violently and snuggled so close to Gabriel that the latter, who did not connect his action with the music, was dismayed.
"Topaz, what _is_ the matter?" he asked, and hurried along, thinking to find some park where he could sit down and try to discover what ailed his little playfellow.
As he began to hurry, the organ-grinder"s black eyes snapped, and he stopped playing and beckoned to a big officer of the law who stood near.
"My dog has been stolen," he exclaimed. "Come with me, after the thief. I will pay you."
The big man obeyed and walked along, grumbling: "Is the city full of stolen dogs, I wonder?" he muttered.
"It is my dancing dog!" explained the organ-grinder. "The boy yonder is carrying him in his arms and running away. He will deny it, but I will pay you a silver coin. It is a week since I lost him."
"Stop, thief," roared the officer, beginning to run. The organ-grinder ran as well as he could with his heavy burden, and there began to be an excitement on the street, so that Gabriel, hugging his dog, stopped to see what was the matter.
What was his surprise to be confronted by the big officer and the black-eyed Italian.
"Drop that dog!" ordered the officer gruffly.
"Not till I get a string around his neck," objected the organ-grinder, and produced a cord which he knotted about Topaz"s fluffy throat. Then he pulled the dog away roughly.
"Is he yours?" cried Gabriel, eyes and mouth open in astonishment. "No, it cannot be. He is afraid of you. Oh, see!"
"Ho, this boy has stolen my whole living," said the organ-grinder, "and now he tries to claim my property."
"Do not believe him!" cried Gabriel, appealing to the big officer. "It cannot be his. The dog loves me. Let me show you."
"Stand off, stand off," ordered the organ-grinder, for a crowd had gathered. "Would the dog dance for me if he were not mine? See!" He drew from his coat a little whip and struck the organ with a snap, at which Topaz jumped. Then he dropped the dog and began to grind, and the crowd saw the trembling animal raise itself to its hind legs and begin to dance.
Oh, the mincing little uncertain steps! No tossing of the yellow curls was here.
Gabriel"s heart bounded hotly. Did these people think they were seeing Topaz dance?
"Oh, believe me, let me show you!" he cried, trying to come near; but the big officer pushed him away roughly.
"Can you pay your debts?" he said, coming close to the organ-grinder. The man stopped turning his crank and taking a silver coin handed it to the officer, but slyly, so that no one saw. Then the big man turned to Gabriel.
"Now be off from here!" he said sternly. "If you hang about a minute longer, into the lock-up you go!"
Gabriel, white and sorry, clasped his hands helplessly, and watched while the organ-grinder caught Topaz up under his arm and made off with him, down a side street.
The boy felt that he must pursue them. He turned his tearful gaze on the big officer. "I found that dog, sir," he said.
"The more fool you, then, not to take it to the palace," returned the other. "It is gaudy enough to have perhaps pleased the princess, and the organ-grinder would have had to get another slave."
So saying, the officer laughed and carelessly turned away.
Gabriel stood still, choking. It must be that the princess wished to buy a pet. Ah, if he might even have parted with his little friend to her, how far better it would have been than this strange, wrong thing that had happened with such suddenness that the boy could scarcely get his breath for the way his heart beat.
He pressed his hand to his streaming eyes, then, seeing that people were staring at him curiously, he stole away, walking blindly and stumbling over the rough pavement.
At last he came to a place in a quiet street where a seat was built into a wall, and there he sat down and tried to think. In his despair the thought of the great King of heaven and earth came to him.
"Dear G.o.d," he murmured breathlessly, "what now? What did I wrong, that you did not take care of Topaz and me?"