Renni the Rescuer Page 6

  Ludmilla did all the talking. Mother Marie thought her charming because she was so affectionate with the kitten. To be sure, her affection had been shown in words only, and at a respectful distance. Vassili treated Renni and Kitty with formal politeness, but he also kept at some distance. As they left he said, “Of course you will do us the courtesy of returning our call.” He said it with the manner of a Czar, or at least a Grand Duke.

  The next day the four young sons marched in. The eldest, Vladimir, about twenty-five, sat right down on the floor of the hall and began to hug poor Nemo. Sascha, the youngest—sixteen—excused him. “Don’t get angry at my brother. He’s only a child.” Sascha already had all his father’s pompous gravity.

  His apologies were not needed. Vladimir had won the hearts of mother and son by his cordiality. They liked Mitya and Kolya, too. Mitya, a chubby fellow whose beard was beginning to grow, pressed Kitty close against his breast in spite of her scratching. The massive Kolya began tearing around the hall with Renni, and finally ran into the garden. The four Russian boys were as much at home as though they had long been intimate friends. Mother Marie and George soon recovered from astonishment and cheerfully accepted their free and easy manners. But George had a bad time getting their names straight and knowing which was which.

  “Did Mama see the sick dog?” asked Vladimir, coming into the sitting-room.

  George replied, “Yes, she thinks I ought to kill him.”

  Vladimir grinned. “That’s just like Mamitschka! Her feelings are so tender, so easily touched!”

  Before mother or son could express an opinion of this sort of sympathy, Vladimir suddenly bethought himself, leaped to his feet and bowed from the hips. “Oh, I beg your pardon! Good morning!” He grinned as he spoke. “Do you really think it’s necessary to say ‘Good morning’? I don’t. Not at all. But Papitschka would certainly read me the riot act if I didn’t.” His disarming grin gave him an air of greatest innocence. There was a sort of magic attraction about him.

  Soon, with visits back and forth, a real friendship was cemented. The family had left Russia before the end of the World War and had succeeded in saving their fortune. All the children except Vladimir had been born in foreign countries, but the Safonoffs had managed to keep their Russian birthright. Icons, samovars, bows of politeness, a readiness to confide and be close friends on short notice—everything remained truly Russian. There was a rumour that old Safonoff was a prince. He made no use of his title. The only sign of his rank was his heavy, elaborate dignity, which seemed born in him.

  George got along with them swimmingly. He couldn’t find much to say to stiff, taciturn Manya; but to make up for it he grew very friendly with the lovely Tanya, who was cheerful like her mother, and whom he liked better and better. Tanya petted Renni till he became her abject slave. She was very polite to Mother Marie, and she would pin up her skirts and go out into the garden to help George.

  George explained to the four Russian brothers his plans for Renni’s education. They became enthusiastic at once and offered to play wounded. It struck them all as a new, fascinating kind of game, and they could hardly wait to begin.

  Vladimir had a wonderful gift as a whistler. He was also an accomplished musician. He could sit at a piano and improvise Russian songs, whistling the melodies in long-drawn melancholy, sweet-sounding tones. George did not have a piano, so they had to content themselves with Vladimir’s whistling unaccompanied. As soon as he began Renni would come up to him, lay his head on his knee and listen raptly, as though he could follow the beautiful melodies.

  Now they went out into the field, into the forest. The four brothers went first, by themselves. They chose positions at some distance from one another and stretched out on the ground, as George had told them to do. A little while later he followed with Renni, and then he met Bettina.

  “If the dog knows the men, it will be easier, and yet at the same time it will be harder.” In her matter-of-fact way of looking at things, she had hit on the truth.

  Renni had already learned how to quarter a field, to cut back and forth across it, to circle it. At a word from George, or a mere sign, he had been taught to strike out, back and forth across the field, in the brush and in the woods. But every time he returned to his master, either of his own accord or at a call, he had worn a puzzled air as though he wanted to ask, “Why? What’s this all about?” For in spite of his systematic searching and hunting there was nothing to be found. It had seemed to him perfectly useless and without object. It baffled him. George had been going at the task in quite a different manner from the ordinary training methods.

  Now they were ready to get down to business.

  “Find!” he ordered. Renni was off in a gallop, dropped into a quick trot, charged back and forth. The breeze brought him a well-known scent. He started out to follow it and ran straight toward its source. Much to his surprise he found Vladimir lying on the ground in the forest, fell on him joyfully, was received cordially and lavishly petted. The two played and romped together. When they had to get up and go to George, Renni’s face wore an air of triumph.

  “No good!” pronounced George.

  Bettina added, “I knew it.”

  “How do you mean, no good?” Vladimir asked. “Renni found me, didn’t he?” He too wore an air of triumph, comically like the dog’s.

  “Yes, but you spoke to each other.”

  “Why, of course we did,” admitted Vladimir, petting Renni’s back. “Of course we did. We were glad to see each other. Smart dog.”

  “If you’re going to act like a wounded man, or a sick man who’s lost consciousness, you couldn’t do anything worse, anything more stupid, than what you’ve done,” explained Bettina.

  Vladimir looked at her for a second, then he grinned good-naturedly and answered, “Excuse me! What should I have done? I know I’m an ass.”

  Bettina smiled without replying. George suppressed a laugh. Renni in delight was running from one to another. Vladimir whispered to him, “We made fools of ourselves, we two.” Renni didn’t seem altogether crushed, and Vladimir was not suffering from too much remorse.

  They called the other three brothers out of the woods and started home.

  “It’s a beginning,” comforted George. “You mustn’t take it so seriously.”

  He might have spared his words. Nobody seemed to be taking it seriously. Vladimir was walking with Bettina. George and the other three along behind. The Russian boys had met Bettina before and taken a liking to her. Now they came to the crossroad where Bettina usually said good-bye. Vladimir, who knew how matters stood, would not permit it this time. Grinning in his nice, friendly fashion, he grew suddenly insistent. “You might just as well stop being an idiot, my dear. I mean what I say. Your bashfulness is idiotic. Mother Marie has invited you to her house, and you don’t come. You’re insulting the good lady.”

  Bettina was not allowed to defend herself. Her excuse that she lacked the courage he refused to consider. “With a bodyguard of five men, you’ve nothing to fear. Seriously,” he added, “do you want to conceal how you and George feel about each other?”

  Surprised and embarrassed, Bettina could not think up an answer. So she came to George’s home with a good deal more of a fanfare than she would have liked. At first she was quiet and shy, but the four brothers kept laughing and showing off, and Renni raced around in an outburst of high spirits. She began to relax.

  Mother Marie greeted her very simply. “I’ve known of you for a long time and am very happy to see you in my house.”

  Tanya, who had just come in, said cordially, “I’m so glad you’re here!”

  “This is my sister Tanya,” cried Vladimir. He stepped up to Mother Marie, kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you.” No one else could hear him because Sascha, Kolya and Mitya were all yelling in unison, “What does he mean by his sister? He thinks he’s the whole show. He wants Tanya all for himself.”

  They sat down and discussed the unsuccessful rehearsa
l. Slowly and pompously like his father Sascha declared, “Vladimir ought not to have been the first to lie down for Renni to find. No, sir. It is an accident, a sheer accident, that he is the oldest of us brothers. Age should have nothing to do with it. He is really an infant, with that everlasting grin of his.”

  Vladimir grinned obligingly. “I am an ass. Bettina found that out first thing, and told me so to my face.”

  Amid general laughter Bettina tried to deny it. She blushed like a peony.

  “Tomorrow I’ll be the wounded man.” Chubby Mitya laid down the law.

  Sure enough, the next day Mitya lay in the tangled bushes. He had picked out the place himself. After an eager search Renni found him and wanted to go through all the to-do of a happy reunion. But Mitya kept his eyes closed, and just gave a low groan once in a while. At first the dog was completely stumped. He pawed around at Mitya and seized him by the coat collar with careful teeth as if to help him to his feet. Then he lay down beside the motionless man, whimpering softly.

  At last, as though struck by a sudden idea, he tore away as fast as he could run. In a straight line he made for George, sprang up on him barking impatiently, pulled at his coat, ran ahead a few steps, wheeled about so as not to lose him and to urge him to hurry. Then he ran on again a few steps, only to repeat the performance. In this way he led his master to Mitya. Then they went through the business of giving the wounded man first aid; as he slowly “came to,” Renni sat on his hind quarters watching the whole procedure closely. At last Mitya raised up painfully. The dog seemed to understand it all. He whirled about them, swinging his tail, but not until George had praised him most heartily and Mitya had stammered a few words of make-believe gratitude, did he give vent to an outburst of joy. Bettina petted him whenever she could get her hands on him—which, with all his high spirits, was seldom.

  George wanted to send Renni out again, but Mitya said, “Enough for today.”

  Bettina too was of that opinion. “Be satisfied with this great success for the first real trial.”

  So George gave the signal and one after another the three brothers came out of the woods. Vladimir grinned, “Was it no good again?” He and Kolya were surprised and gratified to hear that things had gone so well. They were lavish in petting Renni and congratulating George.

  But Sascha spoke gravely to Renni. “Yes, yes. You are a fine dog indeed.” Then he turned to George. “I beg you will excuse me from now on. I have something better to do than lie around in the woods all day.”

  At home they celebrated the event with a tea party to which the elder Safonoffs were invited. Only Manya and Sascha were absent. Father Safonoff wore an old-fashioned Prince Albert with the splendid, many-coloured rosette of some order shining in his lapel. He treated Bettina with elaborate politeness in which there was a very little, barely noticeable condescension. Mother Safonoff examined her carefully through her lorgnette and was distinctly cool. To Renni, the hero of the day, she said a few nice words, but she did not touch him when he came up to her.

  “I never touch animals with my bare hand,” she declared. “I wish my children would take an example from me.”

  Old Vassili was not strictly bound by this notable example. He ventured to tap Renni with the fingertips of his left hand in order to ward off his over-friendliness. “Now, now, that is all right. Go on, now.” Then he pulled out his handkerchief and carefully wiped the tips of his fingers, looking the while at his wife, who smiled indulgently.

  “I knew all the time, son,” said Mother Marie, “that your patience would do it.”

  “And Renni’s smartness,” added George, beaming with happiness.

  “Bettina deserves more credit than anyone else,” said Vladimir, and then he asked, grinning broadly, “Why are you blushing, Bettina?”

  She did not answer.

  * * *

  Ludmilla could scarcely wait until Bettina had gone. “Who is that impossible person? I simply cannot stand her.”

  In the embarrassed silence Tanya said, “Why?”

  “Because she tries to use her charms on people, the shameless thing.”

  Vladimir grinned. “But, Mamitschka . . . ”

  That was as far as he got. His father broke in. “I sincerely hope you are not presuming to contradict your mother.”

  It was said solemnly, with a slight threat in the tone. Vladimir stammered something unintelligible, lowered his head and fell silent. Mother Safonoff looked around with a smile of triumph. But Mother Marie proposed to show her how tactless she had been.

  She said, very decidedly, “Bettina would not be my guest if I had any occasion to think her designing or bold. You are mistaken, dear lady, very much mistaken. She is a modest and well-behaved young girl who is looking for work, and I’m thinking of giving her work in my house.”

  “Ah, a servant.” Ludmilla’s laugh was painful and betrayed her vexation over the lesson she had received.

  “Call it what you please.” Mother Marie was smiling now. “A servant, if you wish. Here in our country all good people are equal, and there is nothing dishonourable or undignified about being a servant.”

  “We are no longer in Russia, Millie,” came Vassili’s booming, gloomy organ tones.

  She sighed deeply. “Alas, alas!”

  Chapter X

  RENNI’S EDUCATION WAS MAKING swift progress now. The next time he went out he located two of the brothers, Mitya and Vladimir, and later on, all three, Kolya, Mitya and Vladimir. (Sascha was not again to be lured into this child-play, so beneath his dignity.) Again and again Renni went through the strange experience of finding his friends lying sick and helpless, and of having them recover with astonishing speed as soon as he brought George along to help. At times he got so confused he didn’t know what to do when he came on Mitya or Vladimir motionless and suffering. He would just lie down by them, stretch out and whimper. They would leave him in his grief until after a while he would remember his duty and dash away like an arrow.

  Slowly the dog came to understand that he must aid them, must save them. As Bettina had predicted, the friendship with the Russian brothers had proved at once a hindrance and a help. George devoted himself more and more to the dog’s training. He went at the practising so eagerly that he neglected his garden and his field. But Bettina was there now. She worked busily at Tanya’s side.

  She had been unable to withstand Mother Marie’s persuasion, well seconded by Tanya. The two had grown all the more enthusiastic over Bettina as a result of Ludmilla’s unjust and unkind remarks. So Bettina lived at the house, slept in the attic room, ate with them at the table like one of the family, and worked busily from morning till late at night.

  “You’re doing more for George when you help out here at home than if you went along to train the dog,” said Mother Marie.

  From the start Tanya talked with Bettina as if they had been the most intimate friends. “Leave George alone with Renni,” she would say. “He won’t even miss you. He’s like a man possessed. Here you can really be useful to him.” Which was the truth if not altogether flattering. Absorbed in the dog, he forgot the girl. George had had nothing to do with her coming, barely noticed her at home, did not miss her at all when he was at the training. Bettina’s help in the house he seemed to take as a matter of course. Once he defended himself briefly to his mother.

  “It won’t be very long now until I have to join the colours for manœuvres, and then of course I can’t work here. I hope by then to have Renni so far along that I can take him with me and report him for duty.”

  Vladimir developed a sudden interest in the garden and field work. He helped cut vegetables and salads, pulled turnips, gathered tomatoes from the frames, picked red currants, and kept an eye on the peaches and apricots, getting rid of insects. He made up chrysanthemums and asters—his favourite flowers—into great bouquets, dealt, grinning as usual, with the people who came to buy, and spent as much time as possible near Bettina. He disregarded Tanya’s quizzical smile.

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  Now out in the forest something very important happened, something which George hailed as final and positive proof of the success of his training. They were going contentedly home one day. Renni had found all three of the carefully concealed brothers, one right after the other, and each time had rushed up at full speed to get George. Mitya was saying, “We’ve gone the limit. He knows us too well. We mustn’t keep on or he’ll get to the point where he won’t believe there’s anything wrong with us.”

  “That’s right,” replied George. “It would be a good idea to use strangers. But where shall we find them? As far as the dog’s losing faith is concerned, if that’s what you’re afraid of, I don’t think you need worry. Dogs believe everything we tell them, blindly. If I put my hands in front of my face and act as if I were going to cry, Renni’s sympathy immediately throws him into greatest distress. As soon as I take my hands away and begin to laugh, he’s at once beside himself for joy.”

  Big Kolya put in, lazily, “He thinks it’s all just a game.” Mitya suggested that everything was a game to Renni.

  “That’s a mistake, a great mistake,” contradicted George. “Why would he get so desperate over my crying? Doesn’t he come rushing from each of you as though, if I delayed for a minute, you might be in dire danger? No, you must get into your heads what unlimited trust and confidence dogs give us. We’re their gods.”

  Vladimir grinned. “You a god, George? Remarkable!”

  “You too,” answered George quietly. “All of you are gods in Renni’s eyes.”

  “We’re a gob of gods,” fat Mitya remarked dryly. “I’m Jupiter. Who are you?” They all laughed.

  “Renni still has much to learn,” declared George firmly. “A very great deal.”

  “What else?” Kolya wanted to know.

  “Well, for instance, the way to make his report, how to bring stimulants and first-aid kits, but, most important of all, how to behave under fire. Just think—machine guns, cannon, hand grenades, bombs.”