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The faithful animal took one mighty spring and disappeared by the window, raised only about eight feet above the ground. Dagobert, still leaning over, encouraged his dog with voice and gesture: "Search, old fellow, search! If there is any one there, pin him your fangs are strong and hold him fast till I come." But Spoil-sport found no one.
Spoil-sport will go before as a scout. Come, my good dog!" added Dagobert, "above all fair and softly!" Immediately, the intelligent animal advanced a few steps, sniffing and listening with the care and caution of a hound searching for the game. By the half-light of the clouded moon, Dagobert and his son perceived round them a V-shaped grove of tall trees, at which several paths met.
Grivois, pale with rage, again stepped into her hackney-coach, in which were My Lord's lifeless remains, she saw with the utmost vexation that Spoil-sport was lying at a few steps from the gate, which Nicholas had just closed, having given up the chase in despair.
It began long before the proper time, and it by no means confined itself to a shower, but opened the winter season fully a month before there was any need of it, and behaved altogether in a most heartless and inconsiderate manner, like a very spoil-sport of a rain.
If they go out with you, I must be allowed to follow them at a little distance, so as to keep them in view, just like Spoil-sport, who has proved himself a better guardian than myself. When the marshal is once here it will be in a day or two my post will be relieved. Heaven grant it may be soon!"
Thereupon, opening the door, the soldier stepped out on the landing place, and said: "Down, Spoil-sport! Here!" The dog obeyed, but with manifest repugnance. His master had to speak twice, before he would abstain from all hostile movements towards the host.
No doubt, she loved her dog as much as we love Spoil-sport." "Alas! yes," replied Blanche. "We also wept when our old Jovial was killed." After a few minutes, Mrs. Grivois raised her head, dried her eyes definitively, and said in a gentle, and almost affectionate voice: "Forgive me, young ladies!
"Spoil-sport," said Rose, hardly able to restrain her laughter, "you are very early this morning." "Tell us what o'clock it is, if you please, old fellow?" added Blanche. "Young ladies, it is past eight," said suddenly the gruff voice of Dagobert, accompanying this piece of humor with a loud laugh. A cry of gay surprise was heard, and then Rose resumed: "Good-morning, Dagobert."
"Good lack, but I never reckoned you should be a spoil-sport!" said she, licking her spoon as in duty bound before she plunged it in the jelly a piece of etiquette in which young ladies at that date were carefully instructed. The idea of setting a separate spoon to help a dish had not dawned upon the mediaeval mind. "I shall hate you, I can tell you, if you so are.
Spoil-sport will stay outside of this door; he is accustomed to sleep at the children's door." "Dear me, love, I think of nothing. But, at such a moment, if you and the young ladies wish to sup, Agricola will fetch something from the cook-shop." "What do you say, children?" "No, thank you, Dagobert, we are not hungry; we are too happy."
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