beyed; but Sir James hesitated, till, having somewhat recovered
his nerve, and moved by shame at seeing a young girl and a boy perform
what was naturally his duty, he came on slowly, and with no little
trepidation, toward where Dexter was waiting with his son.

"That's right!" cried Dexter. "Come along. You come and carry him. I
ain't strong enough. I'll soon send them off."

The situation was ludicrous enough, and Sir James was angry with
himself; but all the same there was the nervous trepidation to overcome,
and it was a very hard fight.

"Let me try and help you carry him," said Helen quickly.

"No, no; you can't," cried the boy. "Let him. Oh, don't I wish I'd got
a stick. Here, ketch hold."

This last was to Sir James, whose face looked mottled as he came up. He
obeyed the boy's command, though: took his son in his arms, and began to
retreat with Helen toward the stile.

Meanwhile the bullocks were coming on in their customary stupid way.

"That's right; you go, sir," cried Dexter. "I'll talk to them," and, to
Helen's horror, he went down on his hands and knees and ran at the
drove, imitating the barking of a dog, not very naturally, but
sufficiently true to life to make the drove turn tail again and gallop
off, their flight being hastened by the flight of Edgar's damaged hat,
which Dexter picked up and sent flying after them, and spinning through
the air like a black firework till it dropped.

"'Tain't no good now," said the boy, laughing to himself; "and never was
much good. Only done for a cockshy. I'll take them back, though."

This last was in allusion to the broken stick, which he picked up, and
directly after found Master Edgar's tasselled cane, armed with which he
beat a retreat toward the group making for the stile, with Helen
beckoning to him to come.

The bullocks made one more clumsy charge down, but the imitation dog got
up by Dexter was enough to check them, and the stile was crossed in
safety just as a butcher's man in blue, followed by a big rough dog,
came in sight.

Sir James was at first too indignant and too much upset to speak to the
man.

"It's of no use, Miss Grayson," he said, "but his master shall certainly
be summoned for this. How dare he place those ferocious bulls in a
field through which there is a right of way? O my poor boy! my poor
boy! He's dead!--he's dead!"

"He ain't," said Dexter sharply.

"Shall I carry him, sir?" said the butcher's man, forgetfu