‘Have you seen Miss Caroline, William?’ she was saying. ‘I am afraid she has run out in the reen.’
‘She’s up in the loft, Mum,’ said William. ‘I let her go up just to ’ave a peep. ’Ere, Miss, you come along down. You seen all there is to see.’
Caroline rustled through the straw and down the ladder. Mrs. Wilmington, cloaked and with a brown plaid shawl over her head, stood in the stable door.
‘I’m quite dry, really I am,’ said Caroline, as William climbed the ladder to padlock the trap-door.
‘You best come in at once,’ said Mrs. Wilmington. And at that moment a faint sound was heard from the loft. Rupert had coughed again.
‘What’s that?’ Mrs. Wilmington asked, pausing on one galosh to listen.
‘My dawg’s up there,’ said William; ‘’e catches rats now and again.’
‘It was a strange noise for a dog,’ said the housekeeper with a thoughtful air.
‘Weren’t it now?’ said William admiringly. ‘Can’t think ’ow they does it! You wouldn’t believe the noises dogs make when they’re after rats. It’s the way it takes ’em, you see.’