in sonorous barks and turbulent demonstrations of delight. But
for them, as they seemed well to know, this marvellous discovery
would have never been achieved, and the drama which now ended with
so great happiness, might have terminated in a lifelong tragedy.

Therefore we were not surprised to see St. Aubyn, after the first
transport of the meeting, turn to the dogs, and clasping each huge
rough head in turn, kiss it fervently and with grateful tears.

It was their only guerdon for that day's priceless service: the
dumb beasts that love us do not work for gold!

And now came the history of the three long months which had elapsed
since the occurrence of the disaster which separated my friend from
his little son.

Seated on the soft moss of the cavern floor, St. Aubyn in the midst
and the boy beside him, we listened to the sequel of the strange
tale recounted the preceding evening by Theodor and Augustin Raoul.
And first we learnt that until the moment when his father's shout
broke upon his ear that day, Charlie St. Aubyn had remained as
insensible to sound and as mute of voice as he was when his accident
befell him. Even now that the powers of hearing and of speech were
restored, he articulated uncertainly and with great difficulty,
leaving many words unfinished, and helping out his phrases with
gesticulations and signs, his father suggesting and assisting as
the narrative proceeded. Was it the strong love in St. Aubyn's
cry that broke through the spell of disease and thrilled his child's
dulled nerves into life? Was it the shock of an emotion coming
unexpected and intense after all those dreary weeks of futile