Each moment he had expected to be bitten, but somehow
they all tumbled together unhurt into Lawler's pantry, where they found
that factotum standing grim and wire-strung with anticipation. Beyond the
pantry were the dogs' night quarters, and they were quickly driven into
them and shut up. But they still bounded and beat against the door, and
presently began to howl a vain chorale.
"Lord, Lord, sir! what's come to them?" Lawler exclaimed.
His fat face had become as white as a sheet, and the doctor was scarcely
less pale as he leaned against the dresser, whip in hand, drawing panting
breaths.
"I can't tell. They will be all right in a minute."
He pulled himself up.
"Go to bed now if you like, Lawler," he said, rather abruptly. "Come,
Addison."
They regained the hall, and made their way to Valentine. He was sitting
by the dining-table in a watchful attitude, and sprang hastily up as they
came in.
"My dear doctor," he said, "what a pandemonium! I nearly came to your
assistance."
"It's very lucky you didn't, Cresswell," the doctor answered, almost
grimly.
"Why?"
"Because if you had you might chance to be a dead man by this time."
Out on the sea, under the streaming clouds that fled before the wind,
Julian recalled the strange terseness of that reply, and the perhaps
stranger silence that followed it.
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