“I will, Ezra. Now go to your room and rest. You’re badly used up. There’s nothing you can do to help, just now.”
“But won’t you be wantin’ me to pack y’r duffel? An’ rig Bucephalus?”
“When I want you, I’ll let you know,” smiled Briggs. With one hand still on the old man’s shoulder, his other hand took Ezra’s in a strong clasp.
“Ezra,” said he, “you’ve always stood by, through thick and thin, and I know you will now. You’ve been the most loyal soul in this whole world. No needle ever pointed north half as constant as you’ve pointed toward your duty by Hal and me. You’re a man, Ezra, _a man_—and I’m not ashamed to say I love you for it!”
His grip tightened on the old man’s hand. For a moment he looked square into Ezra’s wondering, half-frightened eyes. Then he loosened his grasp, turned and walked from the room.
Along the hall he went, and down the stairs. His face, calm, beatified, seemed shining with an inner light that ennobled its patriarchal features.
“Thank God,” he whispered, “for light to see my duty, and for strength to do it!”
As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door opened, and Dr. Filhiol staggered in, admitting a furious gust of wind and rain. With great difficulty he was managing himself, holding the injured dog. Ruddy was yelping; one leg hung limp and useless.
For a tense moment the doctor confronted Briggs. He pushed the door shut, with rage and bitterness.
“And you, sir,” he suddenly exclaimed, “you go against my orders; you leave your bed and expose yourself to serious consequences, for the sake of a beast—who will do a thing like _this_!”
The captain advanced and, with a hand that trembled, caressed the rough muzzle.
“Hal?” asked he, under his breath. “This, too?”
“Yes, this! Nearly killed the poor creature, sir! Kicked him. And that wasn’t enough. When the dog still tried to follow him, grabbed him up and dashed him down on the steps. This leg’s broken. Ribs, too, I think. A miracle the dog wasn’t killed. Your grandson’s intention was to kill him, all right enough, but I guess he didn’t want to take time for it!” Filhiol’s lips were trembling with passion, so that he could hardly articulate. “This is horrible! Injury to a man is bad enough, but a man can defend himself, and will. But injury to a defenseless, trusting animal—my God, sir, if I’d been anything but a cripple, and if I’d had a weapon handy, I’d have had your grandson’s blood, so help me!”