he road he fancied he heard a soft footstep
pad-padding behind him, but of course when he looked round he could see
no one was there. So presently he decided that it was cowardly to keep
looking round, and besides, it only made him more frightened. So he kept
steadily on and took no notice at all of a black patch by the sweetbrier
bush by Beale's cottage door just exactly as if some one was crouching
in the shadow.

He pressed his thumb on the latch and opened the door very softly.
Something moved inside and a chain rattled. Edred's heart gave a soft,
uncomfortable jump. But it was only True, standing up to receive
company. He saw the whiteness of the dog and made for it, felt for the
chain, unhooked it from the staple in the wall, and went out again,
closing the door after him, and followed very willingly by True. Again
he looked suspiciously at the shadow of the great sweetbrier, but the
dog showed no uneasiness, so Edred knew that there was nothing to be
afraid of. True, in fact, was the greatest comfort to him. He told
Elfrida afterwards that it was all True's doing; he could never, he was
sure, have gone on without that good companion.

True followed at the slack chain's end till they got to the milestone,
and then suddenly he darted ahead and took the lead, the chain stretched
taut, and the boy had all his work cut out to keep up with the dog. Up
the hill they went on to the downs, and in and out among the furze
bushes. The night was no longer dark to Edred. His eyes had got used to
the gentle starlight, and he followed the dog among the gorse and
brambles without stumbling and without hurting himself against the
million sharp spears and thorns.

Suddenly True paused, sniffed, sneezed, blew through his nose and began
to dig.

"Come on, come on, good dog," said Edred, "come on, True," for his fancy
pictured Dickie a prisoner in some lonely cottage, and he longed to get
to it and set him free and get safe back home with him. So he pulled at
the chain. But True only shook himself and went on digging. The spot he
had chosen was under a clump of furze bigger than any they had passed.
The sharp furze-spikes pricked his nose and paws, but True was not the
dog to be stopped by little things like that. He only stopped every now
and then to sneeze and blow, and then went on digging.

Edred remembered the knife he had brought. It was the big pruning-knife
out of the drawer in the hall. He pulled it out. He would cut awa