‘_Je ne veux pas te quitter_,’ he answered, using the soft personal pronoun that with a Frenchman means so much; and then he shouted aloud: ‘_Hillo! hillo! à bas la! Hillo!_’ ‘You cannot frighten it away,’ I said imploringly. ‘Oh, go—for my sake! Armand, pray go!’ ‘It is not a wolf at all, mademoiselle,’ he replied calmly. ‘I see it now plainly, but I do not wonder at your taking it for one.’ ‘What is it, then?’ ‘One of our half-bred sheep-dogs finding his way home to his master. See! here he comes. He is about to pass us. Do not tremble any longer, mademoiselle. Your enemy has just trotted by, looking like a veritable wolf indeed, and very much ashamed of himself for doing so.’ I glanced up, and there, shambling along the road peaceably enough, but looking very dangerous notwithstanding, with his huge size, rough coat and glaring red eyes, was one of those creatures, half wolf, half dog, which the shepherds of the Piron prize so much as guardians of their flocks against the very animals from which they sprung. ‘What must you think of me?’ I said, as the huge brute shuffled out of sight, and I remembered what an exhibition I had made of myself. ‘I think that you are a brave woman who would have persuaded me to save myself, and leave you to what you believed would prove a terrible death.’ ‘I hope I said nothing absurd—I entirely forget what I did say,’ I stammered, with vivid consciousness that I had called him by his Christian name. ‘And all for a stupid sheep-dog, too; I am so ashamed of myself.’ ‘But you are trembling still, and you must sit down for a little while before you attempt to return to St. Pucelle. Do you often take such solitary walks, mademoiselle?’ ‘Yes, I like to walk alone, and I did not think there could be any danger.’ ‘Neither is there. These dogs look very formidable, but they have never been known to attack anybody unprovoked. The next time you meet one, all you have to do is to stand aside and let him pass.’ ‘Oh! I hope I shall not meet another,’ I said, shuddering. ‘I do not like them. We have no such dogs in England, and I shall never forget the fright it gave me.’ Monsieur de Nesselrode had selected a grassy knoll by the roadside for me to rest upon, and my heart was beating more in its proper time. What a difference a few seconds had effected in my feelings! A minute ago I firmly believed myself to be in the jaws of death. Now it seemed as if nothing could have the power to hurt or alarm me. I turned towards Armand de Nesselrode gratefully. ‘I wish you would not look so pale,’ he observed; ‘you are not still frightened, I hope?’ ‘Oh no! that is all passed away, and I am quite at my ease again. How good it was of you, monsieur, to stand by me as you did.’