“And that is mighty loyal to your friend,” cried Peg, in a hot spurt of indignation. “Did not the General's wife leave a husband for him? It was well for both her and him they did not consult with you. She might have been unhappy yet, and he never happy at all.” Then, gravely, following a pause: “watch-dog, you are dull beyond description.” When I reflected on my blind inference of criticism against the General, and his wife in her grave, I was willing to concede as much. However, I took refuge in saying nothing, waiting for my blunder to blow by. After a moment, and as we walked in a wide grassy place side by side, Peg took up my hand. Finding the round, white mark where the wound of her leopard tooth had healed, she gazed on it a moment and sighed. Then, before I could stay her, she kissed it. “Peg's mark!” she exclaimed, as though she conversed with her thoughts; “Peg's mark for her slave!” Then lifting up her eyes to mine: “I love that mark; so much of you I love.” Then hiding a rogue of a smile which began to creep about the corners of her mouth, for she would be amused, it would seem, over the confusion into which her caress had thrown me--“Tell me, slave, do you not wish now it were a great hideous scar to overwhelm you?” “And wherefore?” I asked. I could see how she meant to tease me with her mockeries, and would give her no answer to go upon. “I regard that as a very excellent scar as it is,” said I. “I would not have it larger for a good deal.” “Oh, believe me,” cried Peg, her nose to the sky in a moment: “I would not make it larger for the world.” With that, and wearing a mighty air of insult, she went about swiftly, and never a syllable for good or ill could I bring from her until we reached her house. At the gate she paused and offered me her old, teasing look. “Do you pray, watch-dog?” said she. “I cannot make that boast,” I replied. “You should begin at once,” she retorted. “You should pray for quickness and a little wit.” Then, seeing me to rummage about in my thoughts for a clue to this: “But have no fear, watch-dog; I shall never let the General know how you condemned his wife.” This gave me ease again, for then I caught her meaning. However, I needed no such assurance, since I knew of none to own Peg's tact, or one less likely to go upon that error with the General she would pledge me her word to avoid. The summer was running into autumn and the General no better. There had been good days and bad days, and for weeks on end we were made to swing between hope and fear like a pendulum. And I believe he would have died, too, if it had not been for Peg to tend upon his pillow like a daughter. What a joy I had of the girl! My soul would fair reach out to take her in its arms for that tireless affection wherewith she surrounded him. While she could help, she was about him like an angel; when he turned his head for a little rest, she would be with me in her big chair by my desk.