llustration]

"I can take care of that myself," said Turly.

"No, you can't. You are not as old as I am, so hold on to me well in case
the stairs are slippy."

They went out on the landing very quietly, "not to make any fuss", as Terry
said, and made for the gate at the top of the stairs. Terry knew the trick
of the hasp and it was quickly opened, and away they went, down flight
after flight, into the yard.

"Oh, I say, it _is_ wet!" said Turly, as they paddled across the yard with
the rain pouring on them.

"Hush!" said Terry, "or someone will hear you and come running to prevent
us. And it can't be any harm. It will be such a delightful treat for poor
old Vulcan!"

Turly said no more, and the two children stood with the rain drenching
their hair and clothes, and almost blinding them, as in silence they
unfastened the chain that held Vulcan to his kennel. The dog was scarcely
able to believe his senses when he felt the little soft hands pawing at his
neck, and as soon as he was free he jumped on them wildly, embracing them
with his hairy arms and covering them with mud.

"Quiet, now, Vulcan!" said Terry softly. "You must be very good, or we
sha'n't be able to take you up to the nursery. Come along, old fellow, and
pick your steps over the sloppy places."

They got safely across the yard, gained the door, and went up the stone
stair, leaving streams of muddy water on all the steps behind them.

Arrived at the top, Terry looked round for a mat, but there was nothing
just at that spot except the carpet, so she took out her
pocket-handkerchief and wiped Vulcan's feet with it.

"It makes no difference to his wetness," she said, "but that does not
matter. His feet will get dry by degrees."

"We have made a mess on the stairs," said Turly, looking back.

"Yes, I don't know how we ever got so wet," said Terry; "but stone stairs
dry up so quickly. Come along now, Vulcan, you are not to bark a word or
you may frighten your grandma!"

Vulcan was quite in the spirit of the adventure, and trotted quietly along
with the children into the nursery.

Then the door was shut and the merriment began.

First of all the children took each one of his fore-paws and danced with
him many times round the room. Vulcan enjoyed the dance for a time, and
bore it patiently for another time, but at last he conveyed by a short
significant bark that he had had enough of it.

"Is he getting cross?" said Turly.

"No, but I'll tell you