"There must have been some old encounter when the dog had attacked him. His words suggested it all, even to the effect of the encounter. He had been bitten and--then--to be sure, there was that broken walking-stick!--he had retaliated with a blow of such savage violence that he believed he had killed the dog; and, of course, it was perfectly clear--the next time they met, and the poor brute had sufficiently recovered, it had dashed at him." Saul Harrington's breath came in a low, stertorous way, as Mrs Hampton just then re-entered the room, and crept to her husband's side on tip-toe to whisper: "Gertrude has gone herself. I'll go back and wait till she returns." George Harrington felt a pang of disappointment as he asked himself why he had not gone, but the reason came to remind him, for as Mrs Hampton stole back to the door, Saul uttered a savage cry, and they had hard work to keep him down, as he threw his head from side to side, gnashing his teeth, snapping, and making a hideous, worrying sound, such as might come from a dog. For some moments no coherent words left his lips-- nothing but these terrible, low, hoarse cries, and the doctor whispered from where he stood to George Harrington: "For heaven's sake take care. If he bit you now, the consequences might be serious." A shudder ran through the young man; but he forgot his own peril in the excitement of hearing the words which now came distinctly to strengthen his theory; as, with convulsed features, and eyes seeming to start as they watched something which the diseased brain had conjure: up, Saul panted savagely: "Yes, you beast! I see you tracking and watching me. But keep off! I'll kill you as I would a rat. Hah! Take him off--take him off! My arm! My arm! Don't you see! His teeth have met and he has torn a piece out. Ah! Down, beast, down! Hah! You had it that time! Curse you! You'll never do that again. Dead--dead--dead!" He sank back once more in utter exhaustion, but his lips kept moving feebly, and a curious jerk from time to time sent a spasmodic action through his limbs. "Yes, that must be it," thought George Harrington; "the dog had attacked him, and fastened upon his arm, and this injury, which he attributed to a fall on the Alps, was from the bite of the dog, which for some reason--of course so as not to hurt Gertrude's feelings--he wished to keep quiet. The reason was simple enough. He had struck and nearly killed the dog." His musings were interrupted by a fresh paroxysm, so horrible that those who held the delirious man shuddered, and George Harrington felt a strange dread of the doctor's patient, as it seemed to him probable that this might be all the result of that bite--a form of hydrophobia--that horrible incurable disease which sets medicine knowledge at defiance, and laughs all remedies to scorn. Saul Harrington's cries, curses and writhings once more subsided just as the great iron gate was heard to clang.