s from off his cheek?
why does he listen, as he never listened before? and why does a merry
little laugh escape his lips? and then he listens again, and now he does
not laugh, but springing to his feet, with arms extended, he calls out
"Nero, Nero." It is not that Nero hears that baby voice, it is not that
the noble dog responds to the call, for the soft sound is lost amidst
the roar of the waters; but he who fed Elijah by the means of ravens,
and taught the dove to bear the olive leaf to Noah, has guided hither to
the child a sure and safe conductor to his home. Look, look there!
across the stream stands Nero. Nero let out by Thomas for a wild run for
exercise as directed first by Mr. Mortimer, and then by Marten; there
he stood, his eyes red with eagerness, his tongue protruding, and
panting and impatient as not knowing where next to turn his agile
bounds. But not for another moment did this hesitation continue, for
Reuben ran to the edge of the rock, both arms extended, and scarcely
able for the breeze to keep his little feet firm upon the ground. "Nero,
Nero," he cried, and almost ere his lips had closed, after the appeal,
the noble dog, with a glorious bound sprang from stepping-stone to
stepping-stone across the stream, and had overwhelmed the boy with his
caresses. What mattered it to Reuben, that his kind friend in his joy at
their meeting had absolutely overturned the child upon the ground? What
cared he for that? It was Nero, his own Nero, his Nero from home, and
Reuben did so love him, and Nero returned his love so warmly, and
they were always so happy together, and there was no danger to be feared
for Reuben, whilst the faithful animal was by him, which he had power to
ward off. Reuben had recognised the dog's bark even amidst the waters
roar, and that had made him laugh, for he never doubted that Nero would
come to him shortly. And now I don't know how to tell how the rest
happened, for in truth Reuben never could explain how things went on,
particularly after the arrival of Nero, and there was no other living
thing in that solitude but the child and dog. All that Reuben could
recollect afterwards was, that he was cold and hungry, and that he
wished to get home, and that Nero, too, seemed even more anxious than
himself to get home, but Reuben dared not cross the stream, and Nero
seemed almost as unwilling as himself to take the child across, and yet
the faithful creature would not leave the boy for more able