The man opened the door, then closed and locked it as I helped Mrs. Knapp into the carriage. “Have you got him safe?” asked Dicky incredulously. “Well, I'll have to say that you know more than I thought you did.” And the relief and satisfaction in his tone were so evident that I gladly repented of my suspicions of the light-hearted Dicky. “Have you heard anything?” I asked him anxiously. “I thought I heard a yell over here through the woods. We had better get out of here.” “Don't wait a second,” said the man. “The south road comes over this other way. If you've heard anybody there, they will be here in five minutes. I'll follow you on a horse.” With an injunction to haste, I stepped after Mrs. Knapp into the carriage, the door was shut, Dicky mounted the seat, and we rolled down the road on the return journey. “Oh, how thankful I am!” cried Mrs. Knapp. “There is a weight of anxiety off my mind. Can you imagine what I have been fearing in the last month?” “I had thought a little about that myself,” I confessed. “But we are not yet out of the woods, I am afraid.” “Hark! what's that?” said Mrs. Knapp apprehensively. The carriage was now making its way through the bad stretch in the lane, and there was little noise in its progress. “I heard nothing,” I said, putting down the window to listen. “What was it?” “I thought it was a shout.” There was no noise but the steady splash of horses' hoofs in the mud, and the sloppy, shearing sound of the wheels as they cut through the wet soil. As we bumped and groaned again through the ruts, however, there arose in the distance behind us the fierce barking of dogs, their voices raised in anger and alarm. There was a faint halloo, and a wilder barking followed. Then my ear caught the splashing of galloping hoofs behind, and in a moment the man of the house rode beside us. “They've come,” he said, “or, anyhow, somebody's come. I let the dogs loose, and they will have a lively time for a while.” At his words there was another chorus of barks and shouts. Then a shot rang out, and a fusillade followed with a mournful wail that died away into silence. “Good Lord! they've shot the dogs,” cried the man hotly. “I've a mind to go back and pepper some of 'em.” “No,” said Mrs. Knapp, “we may need you. Let us hurry!” A few yards more brought us to the main road, and once on the firm ground the horses trotted briskly forward, while the horseman dropped behind, the better to observe and give the alarm. “We were just in time,” said Mrs. Knapp, trembling. “Let us be thankful for so much,” said I cheerfully. “They will follow us,” said Mrs. Knapp, with conviction in her tone. “Not before they have broken into the house. That will keep them for some time, I think.” “Is there no sign of pursuit?”