"Not a bit of it. I believe he came past here, openly and dressed as he was, for three reasons. First, he wants to prove an alibi for himself, whatever happens. Second, he wanted to see how we are guarded, and by that loud whistling has informed his confederates not far off that it is useless to try the house from the front. Thirdly, he has circled round to take command of the villains that fired on me out of the waggon we couldn't find."
"What's to be done then?" asked the Squire and the lawyer in a breath.
"We must watch the means of access from the left to the right. You see, there are bushes, young willows and alders, all along the bank of the creek, behind which they can steal towards that ferny hollow under the birches, and, from thence, either make for the bit of bush Mr. Terry is guarding, or creep behind the scattered boulders towards the fence. Your shrubberies about the house and live hedges and little meadow copses are very pretty and picturesque, Squire, but a bare house on the top of a treeless hill would be infinitely better to stand a siege."
"Aye, aye, Nash; but I'm no gaun tae cut doon my bonnie trees an' busses for a wheen murderin' vagabones."
"Well, I'll get a gun from one of the men in the kitchen, and explore the hillside below the Captain."
Having secured Ben Toner's gun, the best of the lot, the detective walked down the garden to the gate, where he found Perrowne vainly endeavouring to comfort Muggins. The poor dog did not even whine, but shivered as he stood, otherwise paralyzed with abject terror.
"Crouch down by the fence," whispered the detective in the parson's ear, and at once crouched down beside him.
"Do you see that moving object coming up the hill from the birches? By Jove! there's another crawling behind it. What is it?"
"It's an animal of some sawrt," answered Perrowne.
"That accounts for your dog's fear. It isn't a bear, is it? There may be some about after early berries."