He told her something of what had happened, but not more than was necessary. He rightly judged that Mrs. Stuart would not welcome any event which should tend to intimacy with the Dunns.
Other people, however, lavishly filled up gaps in Archie's tale; and before nightfall, Mrs. Stuart knew as much of Archie's doings as he knew himself.
[CHAPTER V.]
A BRAVE DEED.
ANNIE WILMOT, passing quickly indoors at her father's bidding, did not catch the ominous words which had reached his ears. And believing that he wished her not to see the cause of the uproar, she went dutifully to the dining-room at the back, without one glance through a front window.
Mr. Wilmot, stepping out of his gate, had not resolved what to do. His immediate object was to take a glance, and then to beat a retreat. There would be time for this, he knew. It was not his intention to place himself recklessly in danger by meeting a mad dog in full career,—if the creature were really mad. He had his doubts on this head.
Once in the road, he cast two quick glances—first to right, then to left. Then, instead of retiring, as he might have done, he stood still. For on the right, running along the road straight towards him, was the dog, wearing every appearance of madness in the semi-exhausted stage: and on the left, about halfway between himself and the nearest cottage, were three little unconscious children, sitting by the roadside, never dreaming of danger.
If Mr. Wilmot could reach the little ones before the dog, that would be the utmost he might accomplish. And how, then, could he hope to save all three?
They were getting frightened, poor mites! The shouts had aroused them: and one small creature tottered to her feet; another, catching sight of the dog, set up a wail.
Mr. Wilmot was not looking at them now. He had walked to the middle of the road, and he stood there, facing the poor mad brute, quite calm and cool. Not the slightest sign of flurry or fear showed in his manner. The men behind redoubled their shouts, but this was of little use.