“Have him to guard you?” said Barrow incredulously. “It’s midsummer moon with Master Nick, surely! What would you be wanting with a guard, ma’am?”
“I don’t want one at all and I wish you will call him away!”
Barrow looked with considerable misgiving at the dog. Bouncer returned the stare enigmatically. “The thing is,” said Barrow, “that there dog is a tedious fierce brute, ma’am, and I’d as lief let Master Nick call him off.”
“But Master Nick is not here!”
Barrow looked nonplused. As his mistress clearly expected him to do something, he patted his leg in a tentative way and invited Bouncer to come to him. Bouncer growled at him. This caused the servitor to retire strategically into the doorway, seeing which Bouncer rose to his feet and barked with all the zest of a dog who finds his threats succeed beyond his expectations.
“Try to tempt him away with some meat!” commanded the exasperated prisoner.
“Ay, that’s what I’ll do!” agreed Barrow, and went off to procure some of the mutton laid out for Elinor’s refreshment.
He returned with this and with Mrs. Barrow too, who stalked in armed with a long-handled broom, declaring her intention of soon ridding mistress of the plaguey creature. Bouncer, not unnaturally, took instant exception to the broom, and such a pandemonium of barking, scolding, and growling ensued that Elinor could only beg her would-be rescuer to go away. Barrow then held down the plate of meat and chirped at Bouncer, who made one of his short rushes at him and so caused him to drop the plate and leap back to the door. Bouncer hastily consumed the offering, licked his lips, and waited expectantly for more.
“There’s only one thing to be done, ma’am,” said Barrow. “I’ll have to shoot him, that’s what I’ll have to do.”
“Good God, no!” cried Elinor. “I would not have you do such a thing for the world! Why, whatever would Master Nicky say?”