with the moral qualities of the breed well
marked upon his physiognomy; he lifted his eyes and solemnly regarded
me.

After a moment's pause he gave vent to a long and mournful cry.

"Don't, Lion," I said. "Keep quiet, sir. This is dreadful!"

The dog ceased howling when I spoke to him; after a little hesitation
he came slowly to the spot where I was standing, and looked earnestly
into my face, as if he saw me. Whether he did, or how he did, or why
he did, I knew not, and I know not now. The main business of this
narrative will be the recording of facts. Explanations it is not mine
to offer; and of speculations I have but few, either to give or to
withhold.

A great wistfulness came into my soul, as I stood shut apart there from
those living men, within reach of their hands, within range of their
eyes, within the vibration of their human breath. I looked into the
animal's eyes with the yearning of a sudden and an awful sense of
desolation.

"Speak to me, Lion," I whispered. "Won't you speak to me?"

"What is that dog about?" asked the customer, staring. "He is standing
in the middle of the room and wagging his tail as if he had met
somebody."

The dog at this instant, with eager signs of pleasure or of pity--I
could not, indeed, say which--put his beautiful face against my hand,
and kissed, or seemed to kiss it, sympathetically.

"He has queer ways," observed Jason, the clerk, carelessly; "he knows
more than most folks I know."

"True," said his master, laughing. "I don't feel that I am Lion's
equal more than half the time, myself. He is a noble fellow. He has a
very superior nature. My wife declares he is a poet, and that when he
goes off by himself, and gazes into vacancy with that sort of look, he
is composing verses."

Another customer had strolled in by this time; he laughed at the
broker's easy wit; the rest joined in the laugh; some one said
something which I did not understand, and Drayton threw back his head
and guffawed heartily. I think their laughter made me feel more
isolate from them than anything had yet done.

"Why!" exclaimed the broker sharply, "what is this? Jason! What does
this mean?"

His face, as he turned it over his shoulder to address the clerk, had
changed colour; he was indeed really pale. He held his fingers on the
great sheet of blue blotting-paper, to which he pointed, unsteadily.

"Upon my soul, sir," said Jason, flushing and then paling in his turn.
"Th