"No, it is the moon rising over the trees; that is the light she sends before her. You are right—now for the brook. Ah! it feels clear and pebbly, no mud to stick in. Come, Richard! let us start. No, stay, I remember that if the brute finds blood he will go no farther. Here is my knife," and the desperate boy produced a little pocket-knife.
"What are you going to do?"
"Drop a little blood. There is a big blue vein in my arm."
And the reckless lad opened a vein in his arm, which bled freely.
"Let me do the same," cried the other.
"No; this is enough." And he scattered the blood all about, then looked out for some "dock-leaf," and bound it over the wound with part of the cord which had helped them over the wall.
"Now, that will do. Let us hurry down the brook, Richard, before they come in sight."
Such determination had its reward; they left all pursuit behind them, and heard no more of the hound.
Tired out at last, they espied with joy an old barn by the brook side, turned in, found soft hay, and, reckless of all consequences, slept till the sun was high in the heavens.
Then they awoke, and lo! a gruff man was standing over them.