"I saw Pincher do it," said Martha, sulkily.
"You saw no such thing," retorted her master. "It is a base lie. It is more likely you did it yourself."
Martha gave way to a fresh burst of hysterical crying and ran upstairs to her mistress. Gilbert called Polly to fetch a spade and bury the dead dog in the garden.
"Martha," said Mrs. Gilbert, as that worthy came into her chamber, "shut the door and come here to me. I will give you half a crown if you will hang the dog Pincher."
"La, ma'am, keep your money. It's Dorothy Chance's dog, and I'll hang him to spite her. She's fonder of that ugly cur, than ever you were of Jewel. It will vex her dreadfully if anything happens amiss to him."
"So much the better," cried the amiable Sophia. "I shall then be revenged on them both."
So Pincher was hung without judge or jury, as innocent of the crime for which he paid the penalty, as many a poor creature condemned upon circumstantial evidence had been before him.
Dorothy was the first to discover her old favourite, dangling from the low branch of an apple tree in the orchard. A cry of anguish and surprise brought Mr. Rushmere and Gilbert to the spot.
"Dolly, girl! What's the matter?" cried the yeoman, "your face is as white as a sheet!"
Dorothy answered by pointing to the dog, and walked away to hide her tears.