He was pointing towards the departing Jean Jacques, who was now away upon his road.
Jean Jacques had raised the cage on a level with his face, and was evidently speaking to the bird in the way birds love--that soft kissing sound to which they reply with song.
Presently there came a chirp or two, and then the bird thrust up its head, and out came the full blessedness of its song, exultant, home-like, intimate.
Jean Jacques walked on, the bird singing by his side; and he did not look back..