his hand over his eyes so as not to cheat, as he agreed, would see nothing, and did see nothing of the work of the little boy.
Of these different letters, about fifty in number, some were large, others small. Besides, some of these cubes carried a figure, which taught the child to form numbers as well as to form words.
These cubes were arranged on the deck, and little Jack was taking sometimes one, sometimes another, to make a word—a truly great labor.
Now, for same moments, Dingo was moving round the young child, when suddenly it stopped. Its eyes became fixed, its right paw was raised, its tail wagged convulsively. Then, suddenly throwing itself on one of the cubes, it seized it in its mouth and laid it on the deck a few steps from Jack.
This cube bore a large letter—the letter S.
"Dingo, well Dingo!" cried the little boy, who at first was afraid that his S was swallowed by the dog.
But Dingo had returned, and, beginning the same performance again, it seized another cube, and went to lay it near the first.
This second cube was a large V.
This time Jack gave a cry.
At this cry, Mrs. Weldon, Captain Hull, and the young novice, who were walking on the deck, assembled. Little Jack then told them what had just passed.
Dingo knew its letters; Dingo knew how to read! That was very certain, that! Jack had seen it!
Dick Sand wanted to go and take the two cubes, to restore them to his friend Jack, but Dingo showed him its teeth.
However, the novice succeeded in gaining possession of the two cubes, and he replaced them in the set.
Dingo advanced again, seized again the same two letters, and carried them to a distance. This time its two paws lay on them; it seemed decided to guard them at all hazards. As to the other letters of the alphabet, it did not seem as if it had any knowledge of them.
"That is a curious thing," said Mrs. Weldon.
"It is, in fact, very singular," replied Captain Hull, who was looking attentively at the two letters.
"S. V.," said Mrs. Weldon.
"S. V.," repeated Captain Hull. "But those are precisely the letters which are on Dingo's collar!"
Then, all at once, turning to the old black: "Tom," he asked, "have you not told me that this dog only belonged to the captain of the 'Waldeck' for a short time?"
"In fact, sir," replied Tom, "Dingo was only on board two years at the most."
"And have you not added that the captain of the 'Waldeck' had picked up this dog on the western coast of Africa?"
"Yes, sir, in the neighborhood of the mouth of the Congo. I have often heard the captain say so."
"So," asked Captain Hull, "it has never been known to whom this dog had belonged, nor whence it came?"
"Never, sir. A dog found is worse than a child! That has no papers, and, more, it cannot explain."
Captain Hull was silent, and reflected.
"Do those two letters, then, awake some remembrance?" Mrs. Weldon asked
Captain Hull, after leaving him to his reflections for some moments.
"Yes, Mrs. Weldon, a remembrance, or rather a coincidence at least singular."
What?"
"Those two letters might well have a meaning, and fix for us the fate of an intrepid traveler."
"What do you mean?" demanded Mrs. Weldon.
"Here is what I mean, Mrs. Weldon. In 1871—consequently two years ago—a French traveler set out, under the auspices of the Paris Geographical Society, with the intention of crossing Africa from the west to the east. His point of departure was precisely the mouth of the Congo. His point of arrival would be as near as possible to Cape Deldago, at the mouths of the Rovuma, whose course he would descend. Now, this French traveler was named Samuel Vernon."
"Samuel Vernon!" repeated Mrs. Weldon.
"Yes, Mrs. Weldon; and those two names begin precisely by those two letters which Dingo has chosen among all the others, and which are engraved on its collar."
"Exactly," replied Mrs. Weldon. "And that traveler——"
"That traveler set out," replied Captain Hull, "and has not been heard of since his departure."
"Never?" said the novice.
"Never," repeated Captain Hull.
"What do you conclude from it?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"That, evidently, Samuel Vernon has not been able to reach the eastern coast of Africa, whether he may have been made prisoner by the natives, whether death may have struck him on the way."
"And then this dog?"
"This dog would have belonged to him; and, more fortunate than its master, if my hypothesis is true, it would have been able to return to the Congo coast, because it was there, at the time when these events must have taken place, that it was picked up by the captain of the 'Waldeck.'"
"But," observed Mrs. Weldon, "do you know if this French traveler was accompanied on his departure by a dog? Is it not a mere supposition on your part?"
"It is only a supposition, indeed, Mrs. Weldon," replied Captain Hull. "But what is certain is, that Dingo knows these two letters S and V, which are precisely the initials of the two names of the French traveler. Now, under what circumstances this animal would learn to distinguish them is what I cannot explain; but, I repeat it, it very certainly knows them; and look, it pushes them with its paw, and seems to invite us to read them with it."
In fact, they could not misunderstand Dingo's intention.
"Then was Samuel Vernon alone when he left the sea-coast of the Congo?" ask Dick Sand.
"That I know not," replied Captain Hull. "However, it is probable that he would take a native escort."
At that moment Negoro, leaving his post, showed himself on the deck. At first no one remarked his presence, and could not observe the singular look he cast on the dog when he perceived the two letters over which the animal seem to mount guard. But Dingo, having perceived the master-cook, began to show signs of the most extreme fury.
Negoro returned immediately to the crew's quarters, not without a menacing gesture at the dog's skill having escaped him.
"There is some mystery there," murmured Captain Hull, who had lost none of this little scene.
"But, sir," said the novice, "is it not very astonishing that a dog should know the letters of the alphabet?"
"No!" cried little Jack. "Mama has often told me the story of a dog which knew how to read and write, and even play dominoes, like a real schoolmaster!"
"My dear child," replied Mrs. Weldon, smiling, "that dog, whose name was Munito, was not a savant, as you suppose. If I may believe what has been told me about it, Munito would not have been able to distinguish the letters which served to compose the words. But its master, a clever American, having remarked what fine hearing Munito had, applied himself to cultivating that sense, and to draw from it some very curious effects."
"How did he set to work, Mrs. Weldon?" asked Dick Sand, whom the history interested almost as much as little Jack.
"In this way, my friend." When Munito was 'to appear' before the public, letters similar to these were displayed on a table. On that table the poodle walked about, waiting till a word was proposed, whether in a loud voice or in a low voice. Only, one essential condition was that its master should know the word."
"And, in the absence of its master—" said the novice.
"The dog could have done nothing," replied Mrs. Weldon, "and here is the reason. The letters spread