The snuffling noise went on; came to my chest, to my throat, to my face; and I could feel the hot panting breath of the creature, smell the animal odour of its skin; and then, when the dread seemed greater than I could bear, I felt a moist nose touch my face.
Another moment and I felt that the intruder would be burying its fangs in my throat, and still I could not stir—could not utter sound, but lay like one in a trance.
Suddenly the animal began to tear at my chest with its claws, giving three or four sharp impatient scratchings alternately with its feet, and though I could not see, I could realise that the creature was standing with its forepaws on my chest.
Then it was right upon me, with its muzzle at my throat, snuffing still, and then it touched my face with its nose again and uttered a low whine.
That sound broke the spell, for I can call it nothing else, and I uttered the one word:
“Gyp!”
It was magical in its effects, for the faithful beast it was, and uttering a low cry of delight he began nuzzling about my face, licking me, pawing me, and crouching closer to me, as all the while he kept up a regular patting noise with his tail.
My speech had returned now, and with it a feeling of shame for my cowardice, as I thought it then, though I do not think so hardly about it now.
“Gyp, you good old dog!” I whispered. “And so you’ve found me out!”
I suppose he did not understand my words, but he liked the sound of my voice, for he continued his eager demonstrations of delight, many of which were exceedingly unwelcome. But unwelcome or no I could not help myself, and had to lie there passive till, apparently satisfied that enough had been done, Gyp crouched close to me with his head upon my breast.