e howls of the savage sleuth-hound, that had been sent to
track me. I heard the horrid beast snuff the air, and break into short,
hurried, and savage howls of delight, within a few yards of me. I had
not strength to fly; and if I had had strength, flight would have been
impossible. My pursuers seemed to have lost trace of the animal; for I
could neither hear their footsteps nor the sound of their voices. I made
no attempt at flight, but stood waiting its approach, with my sword
uplifted to smite it. Loss of blood had brought a dimness over my eyes,
which, added to the darkness of the wood, made me that I had rather to
grope and listen for the animal, than perceive it, as it might attempt
to spring upon me. I would rather have met ten enemies than, in
darkness, and in my then fainting state, have waited the attack of that
savage beast. It sprang upon me--I struck towards it with my sword, and
wounded it; but the weapon came in contact with the tangled branches of
the underwood, and the force of the blow was broken. In another moment
and I felt the paws of the monster upon my breast. I grasped it by the
throat, and we fell upon the ground together--my enemy uppermost. Its
teeth were in my shoulder. After several vain attempts, I drove my sword
through its body. The howls of the fierce beast were terrible. It
withdrew its teeth from my shoulder, and struggled to escape; but I
still held it by the throat--with the grip of death I held it--and
still, still strove to pierce it again and again. I held it till it was
stiff, cold, and dead!

"Wounded, faint, and weary as I was, I ventured from the woods before
morning broke, and crossed the Tweed at Kersfield. The sun rose at the
very moment that I turned the corner of the hill which conceals our
house from the public road, and revealed to me your mother, sitting on
the blue stone at the door, as cold and frozen-like to appearance as if
she had sat there the livelong night (as I afterwards understood she
had.) Her hands were clasped together, her eyes were raised upward, and
her lips were moving, as if she were repeating a prayer, or muttering a
charm. When she saw me approaching the door, she rose from the stone,
and, striking her hand upon her brow, cried--'Jonathan Moor! ye cruel
man! ye disregarder of the warnings of her whose life is as the shadow
of your life! said I not that the hound was howling, and the raven was
flapping its wings for a feast?--yet ye would not listen t