Miss Letty made two efforts before she succeeded. Fortunately the bone was not broken, though the flesh was cut and bruised. As the collie gave a sigh of relief, Anne ventured to rub the paw gently with the tips of her fingers, to start the blood in circulation again. This eased the poor animal so much that he licked her fingers, and, scrambling to his feet, began to limp painfully away down the lane.
“Stack your wheels under that chestnut tree,” said Anne, in a tone of command that gave the others courage, “and we will follow this dog. We can easily send for the wheels, and no one will steal them here.”
The lane soon became wider and more open, which was encouraging; but this also gave them a better view of the lurid sky, and did not show the stream that they must cross before they reached the highroad.
“There is a hen and some chickens under that shed and where these are there are usually people near,” said Miss Letty, peering over the vine-tangled wall.
“There is a house,” cried Anne, at the very moment that the squall struck the bushes beyond and launched a shower of raindrops so squarely in her eyes that she was blinded for a moment.
A house it surely was, and doubtless at one time substantial, but now scarcely more than a house in name; for the tops of the tall chimney were crumbling, half the window-panes were broken, and one side sash was wholly missing.
Still the jumble of red day-lilies, bluebells, and trumpet-vine in the pathless garden made it look cheerful, and any shelter was welcome.
“We must have been going round in a circle,” said Anne, as she fumbled with a rusty iron hoop that held the gate fast. “The dead tree is in front again, and this must be the old house that the Herb Witch lived in before she went to the town farm.”
As Anne opened the gate, the collie, who for the moment had been forgotten, slipped past, and hobbling across the yard scratched at the side door.