He passed quietly through, and confronted the dog; the dog confronted him, barking still.
"Nero!"
The voice allayed the angry passions, and the dog stepped up. Mr. Chandos seized the end of the chain.
"You and I must have a settling for this, Nero. Will you come here, Miss Hereford, and I will teach him to know you, so that he does not alarm you again, should he get loose. He must have broken his chain."
"Oh, sir! Pray do not make me come near him!"
Mr. Chandos turned his face quickly towards me, "Are you afraid of dogs?"
"Rather, sir. I am of that one."
At this juncture, a groom came running up, in search of the dog. Mr. Chandos spoke sharply to him, and the man answered, in a tone of deprecation, that it was no fault of his; that the dog sometimes, in his fits of effort to get loose was as a "born devil," and in one of those fits had, a quarter of an hour before, snapped his chain, and burst through the stable window.
"He has run the fit off, then," said Mr. Chandos, "for he is quiet enough now. Take him back, and mind you secure him fast."
The man took the chain in his hand, and went off, leading the dog. Mr. Chandos opened the gate for me. I had not overcome the fright yet, and my face felt ashy pale.