While I was questioning the porter, who was becomingly respectful, a bevy
of Vedian retainers, house-lackeys and other slaves, overtook me,
demanding the return of the Aquitanian watchdog.
"Take him!" I said, "take him if you can!"
The boldest of them approached the dog, calling him by name and
wheedlingly. When he was but a yard or so away the dog flew at his throat
and almost set his fangs into it, for they snapped together a mere hand's
breadth short.
The fellow recoiled and, when the dog followed like an arrow from a bow,
took to his heels, his companions with him, and they ran helter-skelter
down the street, the dog pursuing them to the corner of the Carinae, and
returning, his tongue hanging out, his tail wagging, with all the
demonstrations of a dog who feels he has done his full duty and has earned
approbation.
Hardly had he returned when a band of Satronians appeared and a similar
scene was enacted, with the Molossian as chief actor.
When the last Satronian had vanished round the corner of the thoroughfare
I reentered my litter and we set off for the Palace, both dogs sedately
pacing side by side underneath.
At the Palace portal Agathemer had no difficulty in locating Murmex, even
in the crowd which packed all approaches to that entrance.
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