“But we can’t have him making that noise in the middle of the night.”
“Come out, sir!” cried George, entering the cellar and calling the dog, who came bounding towards him; but as an effort was made to seize his collar, he sprang round and dashed back.
“Give me the candle, Mr Hampton.”
“No,” said the old man; “you’ll want both hands to him. I’ll light you, or you’ll think I’m a terrible coward. I’m not used to dogs.”
He looked smilingly in his companion’s face, and went to the front.
“I know the cellar better than you do, sir. Good heavens, dog?”
The lawyer and the light were both nearly upset, for as he moved forward Bruno literally rushed at him, but only to turn again and run back right into the depths of the cellar.
“Here, Bruno! Come here, sir!” cried George sternly. “We don’t want to go ratting now.”
But the dog paid no heed to the call, and went on barking furiously, while the next minute they reached the spot where he stood with his head outstretched, making the place echo.
“Come here, you old stupid!” said George good-humouredly; and, taking hold of the dog’s collar with one hand, he patted his head with the other. “Now, then, we don’t want to find rats. Come along.”