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Updated: May 6, 2025
So in Gyp that Sunday afternoon, doing little things all the time mending a hole in one of his gloves, brushing and applying ointment to old Ossy, sorting bills and letters. At five o'clock, knowing little Gyp must soon be back from her walk, and feeling unable to take part in gaiety, she went up and put on her hat. She turned from contemplation of her face with disgust.
Colonel Joseph, brother of the First Consul, General Soult, who was afterwards Marshal, Generals Saint-Hilaire and Andre Ossy, and a few other great personages, were at her feet; though two alone, it is said, succeeded in gaining her affections, and of those two, one was Colonel Joseph, who soon had the reputation of being the preferred lover of Madame F . The beautiful lady from Dunkirk often gave soirees, at which Colonel Joseph never failed to be present.
Karl, as Caspar had done the moment before, saw this with surprise. "Nest?" repeated Caspar, astonished at the shikaree's statement. "A bird's nest? Is that what you mean, Ossy?" "That just it, sahib. Nest of great biggee bird. Feringhees him call horneebill." "Well," rejoined Caspar, not greatly enlightened by Ossaroo's explanation, "that's very curious.
"Ha, ha! young sahib meanee from top ob da ladder! Dat meanee he." "Exactly so," said Caspar; "you've guessed right, Ossy. I mean just that very thing." "Oh! then, indeed," said Karl, in a drawling tone, at the same time lapsing into a reflective silence. "Perhaps you are right, brother," he added, after a pause. "At all events, it will be easy to try.
Ye-es an autumn, rose-petal, whirling, dead-leaf sound." "Good! Pipped. Shut up, Ossy don't snore!" "Ah, poor old dog! Let him. Shuffle for me, please. Oh! there goes another card!" Her knee was touching his !... The book had dropped Summerhay started. Dash it! Hopeless! And, turning round in that huge armchair, he snoozed down into its depths. In a few minutes, he was asleep.
When she had lured them to the open gate, little Gyp raised herself, and said: "Aren't you duffies, dears? Shoo!" And on the tails of the turkeys she shut the gate. Then she went to where, under the walnut-tree the one large tree of that walled garden a very old Scotch terrier was lying, and sitting down beside him, began stroking his white muzzle, saying: "Ossy, Ossy, do you love me?"
And, suddenly her heart began beating to suffocation and the colour flooded up in her cheeks. On the edge of the low cliff bank, by the side of the path, Summerhay was sitting! He got up and came toward her. Putting her hands up to her glowing face, she said: "Yes; it's me. Did you ever see such a gipsified object? I thought you were still in Scotland. How's dear Ossy?"
The young man's answer was not audible, but it was followed by irrepressible gurgles and a smothered: "Oh, Bryan, you ARE Good-bye, dear Ossy!" "Good-bye!" "Good-bye!" The young man who had got in, made another unintelligible joke in a rather high-pitched voice, which was somehow familiar, and again the gurgles broke forth. Then the train moved.
Why had she not waited as usual for him to ride with her? And he paced up and down the garden, where the wind was melancholy in the boughs of the walnut-tree that had lost all its leaves. Little Gyp was out for her walk, and only poor old Ossy kept him company. Had she not expected him by the usual train? He would go and try to find out. He changed and went to the stables.
Yes; only not my face!" A telegraph-boy was coming from the gate. Gyp opened the missive with the faint tremor she always felt when Summerhay was not with her. "Detained; shall be down by last train; need not come up to-morrow. When the boy was gone, she stooped down and stroked the old dog's head. "Master home all day to-morrow, Ossy master home!"
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