belongs to _me_! You must prove your claim, eh, Travers?"

"Yes," said Travers, judicially; "mere assertion is no proof; it's oath
against oath at present."

"Attend an instant; your poodle, was he 'ighly train, had he some
talents--a dog viz tricks, eh?"

"No, he's not," said the colonel; "I don't like to see dogs taught to
play the fool; there's none of that nonsense about _him_, sir!"

"Ah, remark him well, then. _Azor, mon chou, danse donc un peu_!"

And, on the foreigner's whistling a lively air, that infernal poodle
rose on his hind legs and danced solemnly about half-way round the
garden! We inside followed his movements with dismay.

"Why, dash it all!" cried the disgusted colonel, "he's dancing along
like a d--d mountebank! But it's my Bingo, for all that!"

"You are not convince? You shall see more. Azor, ici! Pour Beesmarck,
Azor!" (the poodle barked ferociously.) "Pour Gambetta!" (He wagged his
tail and began to leap with joy.) "Meurs pour la patrie!" And the too
accomplished animal rolled over as if killed in battle!

"Where could Bingo have picked up so much French?" cried Lilian,
incredulously.

"Or so much French history?" added that serpent, Travers.

"Shall I command 'im to jump, or reverse 'imself?" inquired the obliging
Frenchman.

"We've seen that, thank you," said the colonel, gloomily. "Upon my word,
I don't know what to think. It can't be that that's not my Bingo after
all--I'll never believe it!"

I tried a last desperate stroke. "Will you come round to the front?" I
said to the Frenchman. "I'll let you in, and we can discuss the matter
quietly." Then, as we walked back together, I asked him eagerly what he
would take to abandon his claims and let the colonel think the poodle
was his after all.

He was furious--he considered himself insulted; with great emotion he
informed me that the dog was the pride of his life (it seems to be the
mission of black poodles to serve as domestic comforts of this priceless
kind!), that he would not part with him for twice his weight in gold.

"Figure," he began, as we joined the others, "zat zis gentilman 'ere
'as offer me money for ze dog! He agrees zat it is to me, you see? Ver'
well, zen, zere is no more to be said!"

"Why, Weatherhead, have _you_ lost faith too, then?" said the colonel.

I saw it was no good; all I wanted now was to get out of it creditably
and get rid of the Frenchman. "I'm sorry to say," I replied, "that I'm
afraid I've