"With the torch. I had lighted it to show him the puppy, and he had it in his hand; had it in his hand when Chattaway began to horsewhip him, but he dropped it then; and when Chattaway went away, Mr. Rupert picked it up and pushed it into the rick."
"I don't like to hear this," said the girl, shivering. "Suppose the rick-yard had been set a-fire! Which rick was it? It mayn't——"
"Just hush a minute, Bridget!" suddenly interrupted Jim. "There he is!"
"There's who?" asked she, peering around in the darkness. "Not master!"
"Law, Bridget! I meant the puppy. Can't you hear him? Them squeaks is his."
Guided towards the sound, Jim at length found the poor little animal. It was lying close to the spot where Rupert had leaped the palings. The boy took it up, fondling it almost as a mother would fondle a child.
"See his glossy skin, Bridget! feel how sleek it is! He'll lap milk out of a saucer now! I tried him——"
A scream from Bridget. Jim seemed to come in for nothing but shocks to his nerves this evening, and almost dropped the puppy again. For it was a loud, shrill, prolonged scream, carrying a strange amount of terror as it went forth in the still night air.
Meanwhile Mr. Chattaway had entered his house. Some of the children who were in the drawing-room heard him and went into the hall to welcome him after his long day's absence. But they were startled by the pallor of his countenance; it looked perfectly livid as the light of the hall-lamp fell upon it. Mr. Chattaway could not inflict such chastisement on Rupert without its emotional effects telling upon himself. He took off his hat, and laid his whip upon the table.
"We thought you would be home before this, papa."