the
door of the cottage opened, and Ronald and the Major appeared upon the
threshold with a lantern. As they so stood, they were almost immediately
below me, strongly illuminated, and within easy earshot. The Major
pacified the dog, who took instead to low, uneasy growling intermingled
with occasional yelps.

"Good thing I brought Towzer!" said Chevenix.

"Damn him, I wonder where he is!" said Ronald; and he moved the lantern
up and down, and turned the night into a shifting puzzle-work of gleam
and shadow. "I think I'll make a sally."

"I don't think you will," replied Chevenix. "When I agreed to come out
here and do sentry-go, it was on one condition, Master Ronald: don't you
forget that! Military discipline, my boy! Our beat is this path close
about the house. Down, Towzer! good boy, good boy--gently, then!" he
went on, caressing his confounded monster.

"To think! The beggar may be hearing us this minute!" cried Ronald.

"Nothing more probable," said the Major. "You there, St. Ives?" he
added, in a distinct but guarded voice. "I only want to tell you, you
had better go home. Mr. Gilchrist and I take watch and watch."

The game was up. "_Beaucoup de plaisir!_" I replied, in the same tones.
"_Il fait un peu froid pour veiller; gardez-vous des engelures!_"

I suppose it was done in a moment of ungovernable rage; but in spite of
the excellent advice he had given to Ronald the moment before, Chevenix
slipped the chain, and the dog sprang, straight as an arrow, up the
bank. I stepped back, picked up a stone of about twelve pounds weight,
and stood ready. With a bound the beast landed on the cope-stone of the
wall; and, almost in the same instant, my missile caught him fair in the
face. He gave a stifled cry, went tumbling back where he had come from,
and I could hear the twelve-pounder accompany him in his fall. Chevenix,
at the same moment, broke out in a roaring voice: "The hell-hound! If
he's killed my dog!" and I judged, upon all grounds, it was as well to
be off.

CHAPTER XXX

EVENTS OF WEDNESDAY: THE UNIVERSITY OF CRAMOND

I awoke to much diffidence, even to a feeling that might be called the
beginnings of panic, and lay for hours in my bed considering the
situation. Seek where I pleased, there was nothing to encourage me and
plenty to appal. They kept a close watch about the cottage; they had a
beast of a watch-dog--at least, unless I had settled it; and if I had, I
knew its bereaved master woul