Suddenly there came a scratching at the door, and Wanlock blenched.
“God save us!” said the girl, and her face like sleet.
“I dare ye to open the door!” cried Wanlock, shaking.
“It is the dog,” she said—“the dog come back; I left it in the company of Stephen.”
“There is some compact here with things beyond me,” said her master. “Open—open the door and see.”
One glance only Wanlock gave at the grey dog trotting in, and fell to weeping when he saw a neckcloth pinned upon it with the brooch! He reeled a moment at the sight, then fumbled at the neckcloth and drew out the gem. With a curse he cast it in the heart of the burning peats, where it lay a little, blinking rubescent, then rolled among the cooler ashes. He moved expectant to the open door where the dog was leading: the girl took up the gem, which stung her like an asp upon the palm; she dropped it in the goblet where it hissed and cooled among the wine, and at that moment rose the cry of Stephen in the avenue.
With a snatch at the burning candles she ran out behind her master where he stood with head uplifted looking at the squadrons of the stars. She was the first to reach the figure lying on the ground, and putting down the candlesticks, she raised the lad, whose face was agonised and white like sapple of the sea. He had no eyes for them, but, trembling, searched with a fearful glance the cavern of the night made little by the candles burning in the breathless avenue.
“Stephen! Stephen! what has happened?” cried the girl, her lips upon his cheek.
“It—it caught me,” gasped the lad. “I ran from The Peel, and it caught me, clawed upon my thrapple, and left me here. I pinned my neckcloth on the dog.”
He leaned upon the woman, helpless in his terror. “Bring me the wine!” she bade her master, and old Wanlock stumbled back to fetch it.
“Oh, Stephen! Stephen! what were ye doing at The Peel?” she asked. “Ye know ye promised me—”
“I could not help myself,” he answered, “knowing what was in the well. ’Twas that that kept me in the country. I got it out and was making off with it when I heard the eerie laugh again. I dropped the plunder at the very door of Mellish when the de’il was on me. He was no bigger than a bairn, but he kept upon my heels till I got here, and then he leaped.”