ignity glared from the white set eyes, and the
drawn mouth. There was a rush from behind him; the old hound, who had
crept up unawares into the room, with a fierce outcry of rage sprang
on to the window-sill; Mark heard the scraping of his claws upon the
stone. Then the hound leapt through the window, and in a moment there
was the sound of a heavy fall outside. At the same instant the
darkness seemed to lift and draw up like a cloud; a bank of blackness
rose past the window, and left the dark outline of the down, with a
sky sown with tranquil stars.

The cloud of fear and horror that hung over Mark lifted too; he felt
in some dim way that his adversary was vanquished; he carried Roland
down the stairs and laid him on his bed; he roused the household, who
looked fearfully at him, and then his own strength failed; he sank
upon the floor of his room, and the dark tide of unconsciousness
closed over him.

Mark's return to health was slow. One who has looked into the Unknown
finds it hard to believe again in the outward shows of life. His first
conscious speech was to ask for his hound; they told him that the body
of the dog had been found, horribly mangled as though by the teeth of
some fierce animal, at the foot of the tower. The dog was buried in
the garden, with a slab above him, on which are the words:--

EUGE SERVE BONE ET FIDELIS

A silly priest once said to Mark that it was not meet to write
Scripture over the grave of a beast. But Mark said warily that an
inscription was for those who read it, to make them humble, and not to
increase the pride of what lay below.

When Mark could leave his bed, his first care was to send for
builders, and the old tower of Nort was taken down, stone by stone, to
the ground, and a fair chapel built on the site; in the wall there was
a secret stairway, which led from the top chamber, and came out among
the elder-bushes that grew below the tower, and here was found a
coffer of gold, which paid for the church; because, until it was
found, it was Mark's design to leave the place desolate. Mark is
wedded since, and has his children about his knee; those who come to
the house see a strange and wan man, who sits at Mark's board, and
whom he uses very tenderly; sometimes this man is merry, and tells a
long tale of his being beckoned and led by a tall and handsome person,
smiling, down a hillside to fetch gold; though he can never remember
the end of the matter; but about