Looking round in astonishment to discover the cause of her terror,
Harry saw a large wolf-hound running towards them at a trot. Its
tongue was hanging out, and there was a white foam on its jaws. He
had heard M. du Tillet tell the marquis on the previous day that
this dog, which was a great favourite, seemed strange and unquiet,
and he had ordered it to be chained up. It had evidently broken
its fastening, for it was dragging a piece of chain some six feet
long behind It.

It flashed across him at once that the animal was mad, but without
an instant's hesitation he dashed off at full speed and threw himself
in front of the ladies before the dog reached them. Snatching off
his coat, and then kneeling on one knee, he awaited the animal's
attack. Without deviating from its course the hound sprang at him
with a short snarling howl. Harry threw his coat over its head and
then grasped it round the neck.

The impetus of the spring knocked him over, and they rolled together
on the ground. The animal struggled furiously, but Harry retained
his grasp round its neck. In vain the hound tried to free itself
from its blinding encumbrance, or to bite his assailant through
it, and struggled to shake off his hold with its legs and claws.
Harry maintained his grasp tightly round its neck, with his head
pressed closely against one of its ears. Several times they rolled
over and over. At last Harry made a great effort when he was
uppermost, and managed to get his knees upon the animal's belly, and
then, digging his toes in the ground, pressed with all his weight
upon it.

There was a sound as of cracking of bones, then the dog's struggles
suddenly ceased, and his head fell over, and Harry rose to his
feet by the side of the dead hound just as a number of men, with
pitch-forks and other weapons, ran up to the spot from the stables,
while the marquis, sword in hand, arrived from the house.

The gouvernante, too, paralysed by fear, had stood close by with
her charges while the struggle was going on. Ernest had come up, and
was standing in front of his sisters, ready to be the next victim
if the dog had overpowered Harry. Less accustomed to running than
the English boy, and for a moment rooted to the ground with horror
at his sisters' danger, he had not arrived at the spot until the
struggle between Harry and the dog was half over, and had then seen
no way of rendering assistance; but believing that the dog was sure
to be the conq