Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
No doubt the panther, when he cleared the wall, hoped exultant to find
himself in the savage forest, instead of which he came down on the top
of a pump, fell on the stones, and the same instant was caught in a
hurricane of canine hate. A little hurt and a good deal frightened, for
he had not endured such long captivity without debasement, he glared
around him with sneaking enquiry. But the walls were lofty and he saw no
gate, and feeling unequal at the moment to the necessary spring, he
crept almost like a snake under what covert seemed readiest, and
disappeared--just as the groom entering by a door in one of the walls
began to look about for him in a style wherein caution predominated.
Seeing no trace of him, and concluding that, as he had expected, the
clamour of the dogs had driven him further, he went on, crossing the
yard to find the men, whose voices he heard on the green at the back of
the rick-yard, when suddenly he found that his arm was both broken and
torn. The sight of the blood completed the mischief, and he fell down in
a swoon.
Meantime Dorothy had reached the same door in the wall of the
stableyard, and peeping in saw nothing but the dogs raging and RUGGING
at their chains as if they would drag the earth itself after them to
reach the enemy. She was one of those on whose wits, usually sedate in
their motions, all sorts of excitement, danger amongst the rest, operate
favourably. When she specially noticed the fury of Marquis, the same
moment she perceived the danger in which he, that was, all the dogs,
would be, if the panther should attack them one by one on the chain; not
one of them had a chance. With the thought, she sped across the space
between her and Marquis, who--I really cannot say WHICH concerning such
a dog--was fortunately not very far from the door. Feeling him a little
safer now that she stood by his side, she resumed her ocular search for
the panther, or any further sign of his proximity, but with one hand on
the dog's collar, ready in an instant to seize it with both, and unclasp
it.
Nor had she to look long, for all the dogs were straining their chains
in one direction, and all their lines converged upon a little dark shed,
where stood a cart: under the cart, between its lower shafts, she caught
a doubtful luminousness, as if the dark while yet dark had begun to
throb with coming light. This presently seemed to resolve itself, and
she saw, vaguely but with conviction, two huge lamping cat-eyes. I will
not say she felt no fear, but she was not terrified, for she had great
confidence in Marquis. One moment she stood bethinking herself, and one
glance she threw at the spot where her mastiff's chain was attached to
his collar: she would fain have had him keep the latter to defend his
neck and throat: but alas! it was as she knew well enough before--the
one was riveted to the other, and the two must go together.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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