'Harry who?' asked Bertram, rather impatiently. 'I don't remember Walter Scott's characters very clearly. They all seem so devilish like one another to me.'
'Hush!' said the sergeant, in a low voice. 'By—! here they are. They'll come up fast because they know that the dogs will give the alarm. Their dart is to be in the house before any one has time to think about it.'
As the four men listened intently, a faint, dull noise in the distance gradually resolved itself into the familiar sound of hoof-beats, the measured strokes of horses ridden at speed, which came nearer and still nearer. In the stillness of the night each sound could be heard as plainly as though within the home paddock.
At this moment Constable Gray entered, his eyes glistening with excitement. 'They're near a mile off yet,' he said. 'I went to the paddock gate and listened. There's three of 'em. Three horses, any road—that's Johnny the Pacer has joined 'em; though I don't expect he means fighting. The dogs'll challenge when they come a bit closer.'
'You stay outside till they dismount,' said the sergeant. 'See what door they make for, and then fall back on us. They don't know what's before them.'
The young trooper went quietly out, moving with cautious and wary tread. The roll of hoofs sounded yet closer. Suddenly there arose a chorus of furious barking and fierce growling from the pack of dogs of various breed which a head station always supports. It told that strangers—presumably hostile—had at that late hour invaded the premises.
Just then Gray re-entered. 'One man left with the horses. Two coming this way, making for the back-door.'
'It's unlatched,' said the sergeant. 'Let them come.'