ut door
was unlatched there was a smell of warm animals, of milk, and cured hay,
and the sound of full, contented breathings that should have brought a
sense of companionship to a grieving little creature.

"Bobby wullna be lanely here wi' the coos, bairnie, an' i' the morn ye
can tak' a bit rope an' haud it in a wee hand so he canna brak awa',
an' syne, in a day or twa, he'll be forgettin' Auld Jock. Ay, ye'll hae
grand times wi' the sonsie doggie, rinnin' an' loupin' on the braes."

This argument was so convincing and so attractive that the little maid
dried her tears, kissed Bobby on the head again, and made a bed of
heather for him in a corner. But as they were leaving the byre fresh
doubts assailed her.

"He'll gang awa' gin ye dinna tie 'im snug the nicht, faither."

"Sic a fulish bairn! Wi' fower wa's aroond 'im, an' a roof to 'is heid,
an' a floor to 'is fut, hoo could a sma' dog mak' a way oot?"

It was a foolish notion, bred of fond anxiety, and so, reassured, the
child went happily back to the house and to rosy sleep in her little
closet bed.

Ah! here was a warm place in a cold world for Bobby. A soft-hearted
little mistress and merry playmate was here, generous food, and human
society of a kind that was very much to a little farm dog's liking. Here
was freedom--wide moors to delight his scampering legs, adventures with
rabbits, foxes, hares and moor-fowl, and great spaces where no one's
ears would be offended by his loudest, longest barking. Besides, Auld
Jock had said, with his last breath, "Gang--awa'--hame--laddie!" It is
not to be supposed Bobby had forgotten that, since he remembered
and obeyed every other order of that beloved voice. But there,
self-interest, love of liberty, and the instinct of obedience, even,
sank into the abysses of the little creature's mind. Up to the top rose
the overmastering necessity of guarding the bit of sacred earth that
covered his master.

The byre was no sooner locked than Bobby began, in the pitch darkness,
to explore the walls. The single promise of escape that was offered was
an inch-wide crack under the door, where the flooring stopped short and
exposed a strip of earth. That would have appalled any but a desperate
little dog. The crack was so small as to admit but one paw, at first,
and the earth was packed as hard as wood by generations of trampling
cattle.

There he began to dig. He came of a breed of dogs used by farmers and
hunters to dig small, burr