And the Girl, looking at him as steadily as Baree, would never leave him.

There was a tremendous thrill in the thought.

He leaned over the dog, and with a tremulous stir in his voice, he whispered: "Some day, boy, we may go to her." Baree shivered with joy.

David's voice, whispering to him in that way, was like a caress, and he whined softly as he crept an inch or two nearer to his master's feet.
That night Father Roland was restless.

Hours later, when he was lying snug and warm in his own blankets, David heard him get up, and watched him as he scraped together the burned embers of the fire and added fresh fuel to them.