“Oh, dear, no. As a rule the quietest and most docile of animals, but he never seems to have liked Saul Harrington.”
“Is anything the matter?” said a voice in a low whisper, and they found that Gertrude had come softly down the stairs, and that Mrs Hampton was looking over the balustrade.
“No, nothing is wrong,” said George hastily.
“But I heard Bruno howling. Yes: there it is again.”
George explained the reason, and after a few moments’ conversation they were about to return upstairs when, in spite of the closed doors, the dog’s howl came in a deep, low, thrilling tone, and directly after he began to bark in a deep utterance that seemed to vibrate through the house.
“He’ll set that young fellow off again,” said George Harrington sharply. “I’ll try and get him back to the stable.”
“I’ll come and help you,” said Gertrude quietly.
“No; the animal developed such strange ferocity that I don’t think it is safe.”
“Safe? Bruno would not hurt me,” said Gertrude, with a smile.
“Not intentionally, perhaps; but leave him to me.”