"What's that? Look. It's a dog, isn't it?"
"It's the boy's mongrel," said Otto.
"Oh, of course, the famous All's Well! The brute's come in the nick of time. Everything's going jolly well! Just wait a bit, you mangy beast!"
He aimed a kick at the dog. All's Well avoided it and keeping out of reach, continued to accompany the procession, giving a muffled bark at intervals.
It was a rough ascent; and every moment one of the three men, leaving the invisible path that skirted the grass in front of the house and led to the open space by the Fairies' Dolmen, tripped in the brambles or in the runners of ivy.
"Halt!" Vorski commanded. "Stop and take breath, my lads. Otto, hand us your flask. My heart's turning upside down."
He took a long pull:
"Your turn, Otto . . . . What, don't you want to? What's the matter with you?"
"I'm thinking that there are people on the island who are looking for us."
"Let them look!"