The blind man stood whistling his soundless whistle. Presently he touched the dog. “Lady, outside.” The revelry of Allan’s guests was subdued in the distance.
“Are we going home, Uncle David?” Joe asked.
“We’re going to the bridge,” said Dr. Stone.
Dusk crept out of the sky and darkness gathered in the hollows. They skirted a field of stubble and plunged into woodland, and Joe could feel the hard pumping of his heart. The bridge again! Did his uncle expect to find something there? The murmur of water came to them, and he lengthened his stride and struck out ahead.
“Behind me, Joe,” Dr. Stone called sharply.
The boy drew back. From the rear he saw his uncle urge Lady forward until both walked at an extraordinary fast pace. The sound of running water was stronger now, clear and distinct in the evening quiet. Fearlessly, without hesitation, the blind man went ahead into the unknown, trusting himself to the guidance of the beast.
Lady reached the bridge. And then, in one swift movement, she seemed to half leap and turn. Her powerful body blocked the man’s path, found his legs and pressed him back.
“Joe!” There was no change in the serene self-control of the voice.
“Yes, Uncle David.”
“Give me your hand. Step out upon the bridge—one foot only, one foot lightly. And hold on to my hand with all your strength.”