; please to let it be. I wake often in the night,
and I like to see the heavens when I open my eyes."

Something touched me behind: it was the dog. Like his noble and beautiful
race, Ponto knew his friends. He licked my hand, and then he walked out
through the bedroom door. Instead of taking his usual place, on the mat
before Cristel's room, he smelt for a moment under the door--whined
softly--and walked up and down the landing.

"What's the matter with the dog?" I asked.

"Restless to-night," said old Toller. "Dogs _are_ restless sometimes. Lie
down!" he called through the doorway.

The dog obeyed, but only for a moment. He whined at the door again--and
then, once more, he walked up and down the landing.

I went to the bedside. The old man was just going to sleep. I shook him
by the shoulder.

"There's something wrong," I said. "Come out and look at Ponto."

He grumbled--but he came out. "Better get the whip," he said.

"Before you do that," I answered, "knock at your daughter's door."

"And wake her?" he asked in amazement.

I knocked at the door myself. There was no reply. I knocked again, with
the same result.

"Open the door," I said, "or I will do it myself."

He obeyed me. The room was empty; and the bed had not been slept in.

Standing helpless on the threshold of the door, I looked into the empty
room; hearing nothing but my heart thumping heavily, seeing nothing but
the bed with the clothes on it undisturbed.

The sudden growling of the dog shook me back (if I may say so) into the
possession of myself. He was looking through the balusters that guarded
the landing. The head of a man appeared, slowly ascending the stairs.
Acting mechanically, I held the dog back. Thinking mechanically, I waited
for the man. The face of the new servant showed itself. The dog
frightened him: he spoke in tones that trembled, standing still on the
stairs.

"My master has sent me, sir--"

A voice below interrupted him. "Come back," I heard the Cur say; "I'll do
it myself. Toller! where is Toller?"

The enraged dog, barking furiously, struggled to get away from me. I
dragged him--the good honest creature who was incapable of concealments
and treacheries!--into his master's room. In the moment before I closed
the door again, I saw Toller down on his knees with his arms laid
helplessly on the window-sill, staring up at the sky as if he had gone
mad. There was no time for questions; I drove poor Ponto back into the
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