[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

THE baronet and the shaggy Hercules
exchanged rapid glances.

Wilde made a slight movement of
the head in the direction of the two
men, and, as though comprehending at
once the meaning of this sign, Sir Murdaugh
Westbrooke pointed to the door, said something
to the men, and they disappeared.

Wilde then rapidly approached his master.
His face was dark and scowling. He spoke
rapidly, with animated gestures, pointing, as he
did so, in the direction of the pool near the
boundary of the park.

As he spoke, Sir Murdaugh Westbrooke's
face grew as black as night. His bushy brows
were knit over his snake-like eyes, and he listened
with unconcealed emotion.

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The sailor, in his oak, uttered a low laugh.

“The worthy pair are discussing things,” he
said. “The man is telling his master of the
mysterious interview between the mysterious
stranger and the gypsy, at the pool. What will
result? Let us look on, since it is impossible to
listen.”

The interview continued for about half an
hour. Then the baronet was seen to point
through the window toward the front of the
house.

The sailor saw that gesture, and his marvellous
acumen told him that Sir Murdaugh Westbrooke
was informing Wilde of the supposed
noise heard by the men when bringing in the
dead body.

The Hercules turned quickly toward the
door. As he did so, he made a sign to the
wolf-hound, and the animal, as though understanding
perfectly, disappeared at a bound.

A moment afterwards, Earle's attention was
attracted by a low and continuous growling
beneath the oak. He looked down and saw
the dog coursing to and fro, and nosing the
earth.

By a strange instinct, the wolf-hound paid no
attention to the traces left by the men and their

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

burden. Something seemed to draw him irresistibly
toward the oak, in which Earle was concealed.
Every circuit which he made brought
him nearer; at last he reached the tree. His
nose rested for a moment upon the trunk, and
he snuffed at it in silence. Then his head rose,
his dark eye glittered in the moonlight. He
caught sight of Earle, half-lost in the foliage,
and uttered a long, continuous, and furious
bay.

As the deep and prolonged alarm issued
from the hound's lips, Earle felt that he was
lost. There was no possibility of remaining
undiscovered: the hound had descried him;
the hoarse bay could not be mistaken. It was
the sound uttered by animals who have discovered
their prey, and are furious to leap
upon it, and tear it limb from limb. Earle felt
that Wilde and the baronet would understand
all in a moment, and throwing a rapid glance
through the window, he saw that his fears were
well founded.

No sooner had the hoarse cry of the hound
reached his ear, than the man Wilde started
and turned toward the door.

Sir Murdaugh, who had gone toward the body,
turned as quickly.

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Wilde pointed in the direction of the sound,
uttered some hasty words, and, drawing a hunting
knife from his girdle, rushed from the
room.

Earle saw that all was lost, unless he acted
with decision. He did not hesitate. The inmates
of Westbrooke Hall were persons, evidently,
who did not fear bloodshed, and were
apt to act without ceremony. His life would in
all probability pay the forfeit of his daring invasion
of the precincts, and without a moment's
hesitation Earle slid down the tree, passed from
bough to bough, let his body fall from the lowest
limb, and sprung upon the hound, who in
turn darted at his enemy's throat.

Earle felt the hot breath of the animal on
his face, and the sharp teeth touched his throat.

The struggle was desperate, but did not continue
long. Before the teeth of the hound
could close upon the throat of Earle, he drew
his poniard, plunged it into the animal's body
behind the shoulder, and hurling the dog from
him, rushed into the thicket just as Wilde
reached the spot, attracted by the last cry of the
dying wolf-hound.

The Hercules uttered a growl so savage that it
resembled that of a tiger. Drawing his knife,

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he hastened in the direction of a rustling which
he heard in the thicket. Head down, like a
mad bull, he burst through every obstacle,
breathing heavily, uttering curses, his eyes glaring
with rage.

But the noise receded — ceased. Coming to
an open space, he saw through a vista two shadows
clear the park wall and vanish.

Earle and the gypsy had effected their escape,
and were lost in the great Westbrooke woods.

p517-062

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