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So
I
returned
him
to
his
home
.
I
send
him
home
from
my
rooms
under
the
care
of
Porthos
.
I
may
walk
on
the
other
side
unknown
to
them
,
but
they
have
no
need
of
me
,
for
at
such
times
nothing
would
induce
Porthos
to
depart
from
the
care
of
David
.
If
anyone
addresses
them
he
growls
softly
and
shows
the
teeth
that
crunch
bones
as
if
they
were
biscuits
.
Thus
amicably
the
two
pass
on
to
Mary
's
house
,
where
Porthos
barks
his
knock-and-ring
bark
till
the
door
is
opened
.
Sometimes
he
goes
in
with
David
,
but
on
this
occasion
he
said
good-bye
on
the
step
.
Nothing
remarkable
in
this
,
but
he
did
not
return
to
me
,
not
that
day
nor
next
day
nor
in
weeks
and
months
.
I
was
a
man
distraught
;
and
David
wore
his
knuckles
in
his
eyes
.
Conceive
it
,
we
had
lost
our
dear
Porthos
--
at
least
--
well
--
something
disquieting
happened
.
I
do
n't
quite
know
what
to
think
of
it
even
now
.
I
know
what
David
thinks
.
However
,
you
shall
think
as
you
choose
.
My
first
hope
was
that
Porthos
had
strolled
to
the
Gardens
and
got
locked
in
for
the
night
,
and
almost
as
soon
as
Lock-out
was
over
I
was
there
to
make
inquiries
.
But
there
was
no
news
of
Porthos
,
though
I
learned
that
someone
was
believed
to
have
spent
the
night
in
the
Gardens
,
a
young
gentleman
who
walked
out
hastily
the
moment
the
gates
were
opened
.
He
had
said
nothing
,
however
,
of
having
seen
a
dog
.
I
feared
an
accident
now
,
for
I
knew
no
thief
could
steal
him
,
yet
even
an
accident
seemed
incredible
,
he
was
always
so
cautious
at
crossings
;
also
there
could
not
possibly
have
been
an
accident
to
Porthos
without
there
being
an
accident
to
something
else
.
David
in
the
middle
of
his
games
would
suddenly
remember
the
great
blank
and
step
aside
to
cry
.
It
was
one
of
his
qualities
that
when
he
knew
he
was
about
to
cry
he
turned
aside
to
do
it
and
I
always
respected
his
privacy
and
waited
for
him
.
Of
course
being
but
a
little
boy
he
was
soon
playing
again
,
but
his
sudden
floods
of
feeling
,
of
which
we
never
spoke
,
were
dear
to
me
in
those
desolate
days
.
We
had
a
favourite
haunt
,
called
the
Story-seat
,
and
we
went
back
to
that
,
meaning
not
to
look
at
the
grass
near
it
where
Porthos
used
to
squat
,
but
we
could
not
help
looking
at
it
sideways
,
and
to
our
distress
a
man
was
sitting
on
the
acquainted
spot
.
He
rose
at
our
approach
and
took
two
steps
toward
us
,
so
quick
that
they
were
almost
jumps
,
then
as
he
saw
that
we
were
passing
indignantly
I
thought
I
heard
him
give
a
little
cry
.
I
put
him
down
for
one
of
your
garrulous
fellows
who
try
to
lure
strangers
into
talk
,
but
next
day
,
when
we
found
him
sitting
on
the
Story-seat
itself
,
I
had
a
longer
scrutiny
of
him
.
He
was
dandiacally
dressed
,
seemed
to
tell
something
under
twenty
years
and
had
a
handsome
wistful
face
atop
of
a
heavy
,
lumbering
,
almost
corpulent
figure
,
which
however
did
not
betoken
inactivity
;
for
David
's
purple
hat
(
a
conceit
of
his
mother
's
of
which
we
were
both
heartily
ashamed
)
blowing
off
as
we
neared
him
he
leapt
the
railings
without
touching
them
and
was
back
with
it
in
three
seconds
;
only
instead
of
delivering
it
straightway
he
seemed
to
expect
David
to
chase
him
for
it
.
You
have
introduced
yourself
to
David
when
you
jump
the
railings
without
touching
them
,
and
William
Paterson
(
as
proved
to
be
his
name
)
was
at
once
our
friend
.
We
often
found
him
waiting
for
us
at
the
Story-seat
,
and
the
great
stout
fellow
laughed
and
wept
over
our
tales
like
a
three-year-old
.
Often
he
said
with
extraordinary
pride
,
"
You
are
telling
the
story
to
me
quite
as
much
as
to
David
,
ar
'n'
t
you
?
"
He
was
of
an
innocence
such
as
you
shall
seldom
encounter
,
and
believed
stories
at
which
even
David
blinked
.
Often
he
looked
at
me
in
quick
alarm
if
David
said
that
of
course
these
things
did
not
really
happen
,
and
unable
to
resist
that
appeal
I
would
reply
that
they
really
did
.
I
never
saw
him
irate
except
when
David
was
still
sceptical
,
but
then
he
would
say
quite
warningly
"
He
says
it
is
true
,
so
it
must
be
true
.
"
This
brings
me
to
that
one
of
his
qualities
,
which
at
once
gratified
and
pained
me
,
his
admiration
for
myself
.
His
eyes
,
which
at
times
had
a
rim
of
red
,
were
ever
fixed
upon
me
fondly
except
perhaps
when
I
told
him
of
Porthos
and
said
that
death
alone
could
have
kept
him
so
long
from
my
side
.
Then
Paterson
's
sympathy
was
such
that
he
had
to
look
away
.
He
was
shy
of
speaking
of
himself
so
I
asked
him
no
personal
questions
,
but
concluded
that
his
upbringing
must
have
been
lonely
,
to
account
for
his
ignorance
of
affairs
,
and
loveless
,
else
how
could
he
have
felt
such
a
drawing
to
me
?
I
remember
very
well
the
day
when
the
strange
,
and
surely
monstrous
,
suspicion
first
made
my
head
tingle
.
We
had
been
blown
,
the
three
of
us
,
to
my
rooms
by
a
gust
of
rain
;
it
was
also
,
I
think
,
the
first
time
Paterson
had
entered
them
.
"
Take
the
sofa
,
Mr.
Paterson
,
"
I
said
,
as
I
drew
a
chair
nearer
to
the
fire
,
and
for
the
moment
my
eyes
were
off
him
.
