Night came; and Tarlton, Loveit and his companions, returned at the usual hour. Grown bolder now by frequent success, they came on talking and laughing. But the moment they had set their foot in the garden, the dog started up; and, shaking the chain as he sprang forward, barked with unremitting fury. They stood still as if fixed to the spot. There was just moonlight enough to see the dog. “Let us try the other side of the tree,” said Tarlton. But to whichever side they turned, the dog flew round in an instant, barking with increased fury.
“He’ll break his chain and tear us to pieces,” cried Tarlton; and, struck with terror, he immediately threw down the basket he had brought with him, and betook himself to flight, with the greatest precipitation. “Help me! oh, pray, help me! I can’t get through the hedge,” cried Loveit, in a lamentable tone, whilst the dog growled hideously, and sprang forward to the extremity of his chain. “I can’t get out! Oh, for God’s sake, stay for me one minute, dear Tarlton!” He called in vain; he was left to struggle through his difficulties by himself; and of all his dear friends not one turned back to help him. At last, torn and terrified, he got through the hedge and ran home, despising his companions for their selfishness. Nor could he help observing that Tarlton, with all his vaunted prowess, was the first to run away from the appearance of danger.
The next morning Loveit could not help reproaching the party with their conduct. “Why could not you, any of you, stay one minute to help me?” said he.
“We did not hear you call,” answered one.
“I was so frightened,” said another, “I would not have turned back for the whole world.”
“And you, Tarlton?”
“I,” said Tarlton; “had not I enough to do to take care of myself, you blockhead? Everyone for himself in this world!”
“So I see,” said Loveit, gravely.
“Well, man! is there anything strange in that?”
“Strange! why, yes; I thought you all loved me!”