greeted his ears, and a cold nose and wet tongue were
playing about his face.

"Oh, Grip! Grip! Grip!" he sobbed out at last, half hysterical with
excitement; and seizing the dog by the neck he held him fast, while Grip
burst now into a frantic paroxysm of barking.

"You good old dog, then you have found us," cried Gwyn, as he sat up now
and held on tightly to the dog's collar, for fear he should be left
again. "Why, there must be someone with him! Here, Grip, Grip, old
chap, your master! Where is he, then?"

There was another frantic burst of barking, and Joe's voice was heard
out of the darkness.

"What's that? What does it mean? Hi! Ydoll, are you there?"

"Yes, yes. Here's Grip! And--and--they must be--Oh, Joe, Joe, I
can't--"

What it was that Gwyn Pendarve could not do was never heard, for he
pressed his lips together and clenched his teeth to keep back all sound.
He had no longer any control over himself, and in those anguished
moments he felt, as he afterwards declared to himself, that he was
acting like a girl.

Joe was nearly as bad, but it was in the darkness and there was no one
to witness their emotion, as he too kept silence, fearing to hear even
his own voice; so that Grip had the whole of the conversation to
himself--a repetition that at another time would have been monotonous,
but which now sounded musical in the extreme.

At last Gwyn recovered his equanimity to some extent, and, taking out
the matches, struck one, but the moisture of his fingers prevented it
from igniting, and he had to try two more before he could get anything
but soft phosphorescent streaks on the box; and as the damp matches were
thrown down, Grip sniffed at them and whined loudly.

Then one flashed out brilliantly, lighting up the darkness, was watched
excitedly, and began to blaze up and transfer its illuminating powers to
the one candle the boys had left, one which was directly after safely
sheltered by the glass of the lanthorn.

At this point the joy of the dog was unbounded, and was shown in leaps,
bounds and frantic barking, accompanied by rushes and sham worryings of
his master's legs; and when driven off, he favoured Joe in the same way.

"Only to think of it," cried Joe, "that dog following us and running us
down in the dark! How could he have done it? I never heard that dogs
could see in the dark like cats."

"They can't," said Gwyn, going down on his knees to give the dog a hug.
"A jolly old c