s, Finn; and to the Lady Desdemona, of whom it was said, by
no less an authority than Major Carthwaite, that she was "the most
perfectly typical bloodhound of her decade." And that was in the
fifteenth month of her age, just six weeks before Finn's arrival at
Nuthill.

When the Master was preparing to leave Australia with Finn he said,
"It's 'Sussex by the sea' for us, Finn, boy, in another month or so;
and, God willing, that's where you shall end your days."

Just fourteen weeks after making that remark (and, too, after a deal
more of land and sea travel for Finn than comes into the whole lives
of most hounds) the Master bought Nuthill, the little estate on the
lee of the most beautiful of the South Downs from the upper part of
which one sees quite easily on a clear day the red chimneys and white
gables of the cottage in which Finn was born. But at the time of that
important purchase Finn was lying perdu in quarantine, down in
Devonshire; a melancholy period for the wolfhound, that. The Master
spent many shipboard hours in discussing this very matter with the
Mistress of the Kennels on their passage home from Australia, and he
tried hard to find a way out of the difficulty, for Finn's sake. But
there it was. You cannot hope to smuggle ashore, even in the most
fashionably capacious of lady's muffs, a hound standing thirty-six
inches high at the shoulder and weighing nearer two hundred than one
hundred pounds. It was a case of quarantine or perpetual exile, and so
Finn went into quarantine. But, as you may guess, there were pretty
careful arrangements made for his welfare.

The wolfhound had special quarters of his own in quarantine, and his
enforced stay there had just this advantage about it, that when the
great day of his release arrived there was no more travel and hotel life
to be suffered, for by this time the Master was thoroughly settled down
at Nuthill, the Mistress of the Kennels had made that snug place a real
home, and her niece, Betty Murdoch, was already an established member of
the household. So Finn went straight from quarantine at Plymouth to the
best home he had ever known, and to one in which his honored place was
absolutely assured to him.

But it must not be supposed that, because of his much-honored place in
the Master's world, Finn had entirely put behind him and forgotten his
strange life among the wild kindred in Australia. That could hardly be.
The savor of that life would remain for ever in