has ceased its fond demonstrations, and stands
as if about to make an attack upon its master's head! Very different
the intent. Yielding to a simple canine instinct, from the strain of
terrier in its blood, it commences scratching up the earth around his
neck!

For Clancy a fresh surprise, as before mingled with pleasure. For the
hound's instinctive action shows him a chance of getting relieved, by
means he had never himself thought of.

He continues talking to the animal, encouraging it by speeches it can
comprehend. On it scrapes, tearing up the clods, and casting them in
showers behind.

Despite the firmness with which the earth is packed, the hound soon
makes a hollow around its master's neck, exposing his shoulder--the
right one--above the surface. A little more mould removed, and his arm
will be free. With that his whole body can be extricated by himself.

Stirred by the pleasant anticipation, he continues speaking
encouragement to the dog. But Brasfort needs it not, working away in
silence and with determined earnestness, as if knowing that time was an
element of success.

Clancy begins to congratulate himself on escape, is almost sure of it,
when a sound breaks upon his ear, bringing back all his apprehensions.
Again the hoof-stroke of a horse!

Richard Darke is returning!

"Too late, Brasfort!" says his master, apostrophising him in speech
almost mechanical, "Too late your help. Soon you'll see me die."

CHAPTER EIGHTY.

A RESURRECTIONIST.

"Surely the end has come!"

So reflects Clancy, as with keen apprehension he listens to the tread of
the approaching horseman. For to a certainty he approaches, the dull
distant thud of hooves gradually growing more distinct. Nor has he any
doubt of its being the same steed late reined up in front of him, the
fresh score of whose calkers are there within a few feet of his face.

The direction whence comes the sound, is of itself significant; that in
which Darke went off. It is he returning--can be no other.

Yes; surely his end has come--the last hour of his life. And so near
being saved! Ten minutes more, and Brasfort would have disinterred him.

Turning his eyes downward, he can see the cavity enlarged, and getting
larger. For the dog continues to drag out the earth, as if not hearing,
or disregarding the hoof-stroke. Already its paws are within a few
inches of his elbow.

Is it possible for him to wrench out his arm! With it free he