Mercy! How startled Agnes was for a moment. It might be a bear! Or a wolf! Then, of course, she came to herself, shrugged her shoulders, and laughed.
“It’s a dog. Somebody is out hunting. But goodness! how he did scare me,” she thought.
Agnes went on again, cheerfully enough. The road was by no means straight. If she looked back she could see only a short distance, for the brush and trees hid the back stretches.
She turned again. There was the creature just darting once more into the shrubbery!
Agnes halted in her tracks. She was suddenly smitten with fear. She could not shake the feeling off. Surely there was something dogging her footsteps.
She puckered her lips to whistle; but no sound came. She tried to call; but her tongue seemed dry and her throat contracted. She knew it was a dog; yet the possibility of its being some savage beast instead, terrified her.
Even a bad dog would be dangerous to meet in this lonely place. And he followed her so stealthily!
Agnes was panic-stricken at midday. It was almost noon now, and how strange that she had not reached the Buckham house! Why! she had been walking for an hour.
It came over the girl suddenly that she was lost.
“Yet I don’t see how that can be,” she murmured. “I’m in the road and it’s plain enough. Surely it should lead somewhere.”