I do not think that we were pursued: perhaps the unlocking of the door took our foe too much time, perhaps he did not think it worth while to hunt down such ignoble game, or perhaps he considered (but this I much doubt) that the cleverness which a rat had shown in making so extraordinary an escape, entitled him to a little indulgence. But we ran as though a whole pack of hounds were behind us; we never paused to take breath or look behind us, till we had buried ourselves in a corn-field. "And are you really unhurt?" I exclaimed, when we stopped at last, panting and exhausted. "Unhurt? yes!-- only bruised by the fling,-- it was well that the yard was not paved with stones." "And you were really alive and had your senses while that savage was holding you up with your head hanging down! Why, you looked as like a dead rat as ever I saw one!" "I was wide awake all the time," said Whiskerandos, "but I knew that it was my only chance to feign death. This has been a narrow escape, Ratto; I was never so near being torn to pieces before, not even in my fight with the ferret!" "I'll never go near a house in daylight again!" exclaimed I, still trembling with excitement and terror. Whiskerandos appeared to feel the effects of the fright less than I did, though his danger had been so much greater. "It is your thirst that makes you so nervous," said he; "you have not yet recovered from our voyage on the barrel. There seems to be a wet ditch around this field; come and moisten your nose in the water." The relief was certainly great, and as I drank the cool liquid, I felt my spirits revive. "I wonder where we are now!" said I. "I have no doubt on the subject,-- we are in old England again! The look of the house, the hedges, the fields, that young fellow--" "Oh! don't speak of him!" I exclaimed, "cruel, barbarous monster that he is!" "You are too hard on him," said Whiskerandos, in his own frank, good-humoured manner. "He may be no worse than the rest of his species, who think that there is no harm in being cruel to a rat. I suspect that even your blue-eyed friend would shout with joy to see a cat worry a mouse!" "I don't believe it!" I replied indignantly; "a generous and noble heart can never take pleasure in seeing pain inflicted on a poor defenceless creature!" "Ah, but--" Whiskerandos commenced, but our conversation was suddenly interrupted by a little squeak from the hedge close behind us. "I think that I know that voice!" exclaimed I, and I had hardly uttered the sentence ere from the thick covert sprang the well-remembered form of Bright-eyes! CHAPTER XXI. A NEW KIND OF WATCH-DOG.