"I know what it all means, my dear son," she murmured with the saddest of smiles; "but it never shall he said that Gertrude Baroness von Trump stood in the way of her son adding new glories to the family 'scutcheon. Go, go, little boron, and Heaven bring thee safely back to our arms and to our hearts in its own good time."
At these words Bulger, who had been listening to the conversation with pricked-up ears and glistening eyes, gave one long howl of joy, and then springing into my lap, covered my face with kisses. This done, he vented his happiness in a string of ear-splitting barks and a series of the maddest gambols. It was one of the happiest and proudest days of his life. for he felt, that he had exerted considerable influence in screwing to the sticking-point my resolution to set, out on my travels once again.
And now the patter of hurrying feet and the loud murmur of anxious voices resounded through the castle corridors, while inside and out ever and anon I could hear the my now whispered and now outspoken,—
"The little baron is making ready to leave home again."
Bulger ran hither and thither, surveying everything, taking note of all the preparations, and I could hear his joyous bark ring out as some familiar article used by me on my former journeys was dragged from its hiding-place.
Twenty times a day my gentle mother came to my room to repeat some good counsel or reiterate some valuable caution. It seemed to me that I had never seen her so calm, so stately, so lovable.
She was very proud of my great name and so, in fact, were every man, woman, and child in the castle. Had I not gotten off as I did, I should have been literally killed with kindness and Bulger slain with sweetcake.
