He caught the dog by the throat, choking him into silence, and handed him to Aileen.
"For God's sake, keep the dog away—don't let him come—keep him quiet, or I'm lost—" he dropped over the wall and disappeared in the woods.
Here and there across the pastures a lantern shot its unsteady rays. The posse had begun their night's work.
The dog struggled frantically to free himself from Aileen's arms; again and again she choked him that he might not bark and betray his master. The terrified sheep bleated loud and long, trampling one another in vain efforts to get through or over the wall.
"Oh, Rag, Rag,—stop, or I must kill you, dear, dear little Rag—oh, I can't choke you—I can't—I can't! Rag, be still, I say—oh—"
Between his desire to free his limbs, to breathe freely, and the instinctive longing to follow his master, the dog's powerful muscles were doing double work.
"Oh, what shall I do—what shall I do—" she groaned in her helplessness. The dog's frantic struggles were proving too much for her strength, for she had to hold him with one hand; the other was on his windpipe. She knew 'Lias would soon be coming home; he could hear the sheep from the road, as she already heard the subdued bay of the hound and the muffled bark of the collie, shut—thanks to Mrs. Caukins' premonition of what might happen—within four walls. She looked about her—a strip of her white skirt lay on the ground—Could she—?
"No, Rag darling—no, I can't, I can't—" she began to cry. Through her tears she saw something sticking up from the hoof-trampled earth near the strip of cotton—a knife—
She was obliged to take her hand from the dog's throat in order to pick it up—there was one joyous bark....
"O Rag, forgive me—forgive!" she cried under her breath, sobbing as if her heart would break.