he Hall and return again to the
scene of the disaster.

"Mr. Juxon! Juxon! Juxon!" John was shouting as he ran up the park.

"This way! look sharp!" yelled the squire, foreseeing relief. John's
quick footsteps rang on the hard road. The squire called again and in a
moment the young man had joined him and stood horror-struck at what he
saw.

"Don't touch the dog!" cried the squire. "Don't come near him, I say!" he
added as John came forward. "There--there has been an accident, Mr.
Short," he added in calmer tones. "Would you mind seeing if the fellow is
alive?"

John was too much startled to say anything, but he went and knelt down by
Goddard's body and looked into his face.

"Feel his pulse," said the squire. "Listen at his heart." To him it
seemed a very simple matter to ascertain whether a man were alive or
dead. But John was nervous; he had never seen a dead man in his life and
felt that natural repulsion to approaching death which is common to all
living creatures. There was no help for it, however, and he took Walter
Goddard's limp hand in his and tried to find his pulse; he could not
distinguish any beating. The hand fell nerveless to the ground.

"I think he is dead," said John very softly, and he rose to his feet and
drew back a little way from the body.

"Then just wait five minutes for me, if you do not mind," said Mr. Juxon,
and he turned away dragging the reluctant and still struggling Stamboul
by his side.

John shuddered when he was left alone. It was indeed a dismal scene
enough. At his feet lay Walter Goddard's body, faintly illuminated by the
struggling moonbeams; all around and overhead the east wind was howling
and whistling and sighing in the dry oak branches, whirling hither and
thither the few brown leaves that had clung to their hold throughout the
long winter; the sound of the squire's rapidly retreating footsteps grew
more faint in the distance; John felt that he was alone and was very
uncomfortable. He would have liked to go back to the cottage and tell
Mrs. Goddard of what had happened, and that Mr. Juxon was safe; but he
thought the squire might return and find that he had left his post and
accuse him of cowardice. He drew back from the man's body and sheltered
himself from the wind, leaning against the broad trunk of an old oak
tree. He had not stood thus many minutes when he heard the sound of
wheels upon the hard road. It might be Mrs. Goddard, he thought. With one
more glance at