The dog, though,—if any descriptions of him were out, it would not be forgotten that the dog was missing and had probably gone with him. This might lead to his apprehension as he passed along the streets. He resolved to drown him, and walked on looking about for a pond; picking up a heavy stone and tying it to his handkerchief as he went.
The animal looked up into his master’s face while these preparations were making—and, whether his instinct apprehended something of their purpose, or the robber’s sidelong look at him was sterner than ordinary—skulked a little further in the rear than usual, and cowered as he came more slowly along. When his master halted at the brink of a pool and looked round to call him, he stopped outright.
“Do you hear me call ‘come here?’” cried Sikes whistling.
The animal came up from the very force of habit; but as Sikes stooped to attach the handkerchief to his throat, he uttered a low growl and started back.
“Come back,” said the robber, stamping on the ground. The dog wagged his tail, but moved not. Here Sikes made a running noose and called him again.
The dog advanced, retreated, paused an instant, turned and scoured away at his hardest speed.
The man whistled again and again, and sat down and waited in the expectation that he would return. But no dog appeared, and he resumed his journey.