"Good heavens!" she thought, "this cruel woman will never execute her threat. Gilbert will not suffer her to destroy the good old dog."
"Mrs. Gilbert," she said in a voice of entreaty, "I hope you do not mean to hurt the dog. It is the nature of these animals to quarrel and fight with each other. The death of Pincher would do you no good, while it would greatly distress Mrs. Rushmere, who loves the dog."
"Oh, I suppose you care nothing about him, when I see you feeding and caressing him every day. You have no regard for my feelings. There was nothing in the world I loved so well as my dog."
"Not even your husband, Sophy?" said Gilbert, who just then came in. "Now don't expect me to be very sorry for the death of my rival. When Martha came running to me in the field, I thought something terrible had happened."
"Could anything be worse?" sobbed his wife, kissing the head of her dead favourite. "If you have any regard for me, Gilbert, you will just go out and kill the hateful wretch that murdered him."
"Kill Pincher! I would lose my other arm first."
"God bless you, Gilbert!" cried Dorothy, with her eyes full of tears. "I felt certain you would never kill such an old friend."
That speech, meant for his good, decided the fate of poor Pincher. A sinister smile passed over Mrs. Gilbert's pale face. She dropped the body of Jewel upon the floor, and left the room.
After she was gone, Gilbert took up the animal and carefully examined the wound.
"Pincher never did this. The dog has been stabbed with a knife. The jugular vein is completely severed. I never cared much for the creature, who gave more trouble than a child, but it was a dastardly thing to do."