So the two trotted for miles, through the mild, still October night, the man breathing heavily. Once something made Finn pause suddenly; and the pause let him into a secret. The collar he was wearing now was different from any other he had known in his short life. If you pulled against it, it slipped round your throat so tightly as to stop your breathing instantly and absolutely. The only thing to do was to go the way the collar and lead pulled; then, immediately, the pressure relaxed. It was a collar that had to be obeyed, that was evident. These "slip-collars" are well known to some members of the Great Dane family, and particularly to those who are owned by dealers; but their use came with rather a shock to lordly young Finn, who, living the free and happy life he always had lived, there beside the Sussex Downs, had rarely been asked to wear a collar of any sort.
After a time, Finn and the stranger came to a little town, and walked into the yard of an inn. There another man met them, to whom Finn's friend said, hurriedly--
"I'll walk straight on. You drive on with the cart after me. Don't stop till you're clear of the village."
"You've got him, then?" said the second man.
"Never you mind about that. Can't yer see I've got him? You get the pony out."
And then Finn followed his leader out of the yard, and through the quiet little village to the open country beyond. But by this time Finn was beginning to feel that the night walk had been prolonged far enough. There was no sign of any more of the aromatic meat coming his way, and he had given up asking for it, and nosing the man's pocket. He thought he would like to turn now, and get back to Kathleen and Tara and the Master. The day, and its immediate predecessors, had been tiring, and Finn thought with strong desire of his fragrant wheaten straw bed in the coach-house at home. Yes, it was certainly time to return.
Accordingly, Finn asked his leader to stop, and, finding that the man took no notice, he asked again, through his nose, and urgently. The man paid not the slightest heed to this, and that rather angered Finn, who was not accustomed to being ignored; so he planted his fore-feet firmly, and stopped dead. As the lead tightened, the slip-collar pressed painfully on Finn's throat; but he felt that the time had arrived to bring this excursion to an end, and so steeled himself to ignore this pressure.