n, 'Noo, as thoo's his nephew thoo gan and see if it will
chivvy thoo, and, if it does, Aa'l bet thoo thoo'll run from it faster
than thoo's ever run i' your life afore.'

I turned away with a laugh, saying I was going to look about for the
dog's tracks.

'The beggar had ne tracks, Aa warrant thoo,' shouted my informant after
me, but he was wrong, for I soon found tracks in the park here and there
in the soft grass, and an impress of paws which evidently must have
been bandaged--that is, there was a round slot only, no separate pads
were showing. _The Hell-hound was evidently club-footed._ As I looked at
the imprint a little closer I grew certain that the hound's paws had
been bound round with some soft material--linen, calico, or washleather,
for one of the coverings had come unloosed and I saw a distinct mark of
claws.

I investigated the mausoleum next, and found that there was a wall some
four feet six inches high round about it for the evident purpose of
protection against cattle. Between this and the circular tomb-containing
tower were some yew trees which had thriven well, and now extended their
long fingers above and beyond the encircling wall.

The yew branches were so thick and the dews had been so heavy that
certainty was out of the question, but I thought I had discovered this
at least, that the hound had been lying beneath the bushes, and had
given 'Geordie' his hunt from the mausoleum exactly as he had asserted.

I returned to the Rectory, my mind made up. I would borrow a revolver
from my uncle, and watch beside the mausoleum all that night.

Fortified by tea, encouraged by my aunt, and chaffed by my uncle, I set
off for my sentry post carrying an electric torch, some sticks of
chocolate, and a revolver. I approached the mausoleum very warily; a
soft west wind was blowing, the night was quiet with alternate swathes
of darkness and light as billowy clouds took the moon by storm and
passed beyond her. I stayed in the shadow of the trees, beside the
knoll, and spied out the landscape, and listened for any tell-tale
sound. Beyond the jet-black bastions of Castle Ichabod I could see the
white turmoil of the waking sea half a mile to the eastward; I could
hear her ancient threnody, but saw no sign of life within the park.

Waiting for the next spell of darkness I walked swiftly up to the
protecting wall of the mausoleum, climbed over, and with the torch's aid
found a yew branch on which I could sit and o