Now, this was bad enough—for nothing would induce poor Nan to catch him—but worse was to follow; for Jack, grown a large pup now and full of spirit, had followed his little mistress, unknown to her, into the attic. The next moment there was a cry, a scuffle, and Jack had caught the sick rat by the neck. Nan screamed, rushed at the dog and rat, and tried to separate them. Alack and alas! the spirit of his ancestors was in Jack’s veins at that moment; his hairs bristled in excitement. It did not take him long to shake the life out of poor Pip, who lay dead and torn on the floor of the attic.
Nan’s consternation exceeded all bounds.
“What shall I do? What shall I do?” she exclaimed.
She said the words aloud. A light, low laugh falling on her ears caused her to turn quickly, and she saw, standing in the doorway, a fair-haired girl with large blue eyes and an exceedingly amused expression on her face.
“Oh!” said Nan, giving a jump.
“What is the matter?” said the girl.
“Who are you?” said Nan.
“I am Augusta Duncan. But what have you been doing? You are a funny girl, ratting up here all by yourself.”
“Oh! you don’t know what it means. It is perfectly awful! I came up to see Kitty’s sick rat, Pip. She just worships Pip. She has had him almost since he was born; and he was ill to-day, and she put him into a separate cage, and while I was looking at him he escaped, and my bull-terrier killed him.— Oh Jack! oh Jack! what have you done?”
The smile on the strange girl’s face became a little broader; she slowly crossed the room, looked at the rat, and then going away, came back with a pair of tongs. With the tongs she lifted the rat and laid him on a shelf.