Upon this, Mr. Macrae struck hard with his pistol-butt, calling out: 'Hector, laddie, are ye there?'
Instantly there came back from the interior a muffled cry of joy, and the faint words: 'Father! oh, father! is that you?'
There was a stout padlock fastening the door, but Mr. Macrae quickly prised this off, and tore the door open. Out of the interior darkness rushed Hector and flung himself, half-sobbing, into his father's arms.
Andrew returned the embrace warmly, and then asked in a tone of surprise and concern: 'Was no' Dandy with you?'
'Why no, father!' replied Hector. 'The man that shut me up took both Dour and Dandy away with him.'
'Then we maun find the dog,' was the resolute rejoinder. 'Here, Dour, gude dog, call Dandy.' Without a moment's hesitation, the well-trained creature poured forth a volley of barks that meant as plainly as possible, 'Dandy, where are you? Tell us.'
'Now listen, friends, for the answer,' said Mr. Macrae, with a grim smile.
There was no doubt about the response, for out of the surrounding gloom burst a chorus of canine music that fairly made the welkin ring, and how Dandy's particular contribution could be distinguished seemed a hopeless problem.
But Mr. Macrae waited silently until the commotion had somewhat subsided, and then, pointing to the northern end of the enclosure, said confidently: 'There's whaur they've got Dandy.'
Dour evidently approved of their going thither, and presently, turning the corner of one of the most remote buildings, they found the object of their search, half-strangled in his frantic efforts to break the thong that held him fast.