him into fullest brotherhood at sight--proved no small
factors in Graeme's extrication from the depths.

Human companionship, even of the loftiest, most philosophic, most
gracious, would, for the time being, have jarred and ruffled his
naturally equable spirit. Two only exceptions might have been
conceivably possible--some humble, large-souled friend, anxious only
to anticipate his slightest wish, desirous only of his company,
and--dumb, and so unable to fret him with inane talk; or--Margaret
Brandt.

The first he could have endured. The latter--ah, God! How he would
have rejoiced in her! The spirit groaned within him at times in
agonised longing for her; and the glories of the sweet spring days, in
a land where spring is joyous and radiant beyond most, turned gray and
cheerless in the shadow of his loss. What Might Have Been stabbed What
Was to the heart and let its life-blood run.

But, since neither of these was available, a benignant Providence
provided him with friends entirely to his taste. For the great brown
hound, Punch, was surely, despite the name men had given him, a
nobleman by birth and breeding. Powerful and beautifully made, the
sight of his long lithe bounds, as he quartered the cliff-sides in
silent chase of fowl and fur, was a thing to rejoice in; so exquisite
in its tireless grace, so perfect in its unconscious exhibition of
power and restraint. For the brown dog never gave tongue, and he never
killed. He chased for the keen enjoyment of the chase, and no man had
ever heard him speak.

He was the first dumb dog Graeme had ever come across, and the
pathetic yearning in his solemn brown eyes was full of infinite appeal
to one who suffered also from an unforgettable loss. He answered to
his name with a dignified appreciation of its incongruity, and the
tail-less white terrier, more appropriately, to that of Scamp.

V

They were on the very best of terms, these two friends of his,
possibly because of their absolute unlikeness,--Punch, large, solemn,
imperturbable, with a beautifully-curved slow-waving tail and no
voice; Scamp, a bundle of wriggling nerves moved by electricity, with
a sharp excited bark and not even the stump of a tail. When he needed
to wag he wagged the whole of his body behind his front legs.

These two were sitting watching him expectantly as Mrs. Carre brought
in his dinner that first day, and she instantly ordered them out.

Punch rose at once, cast one look of grave ap