vironment for the master of it. It was in perfect
keeping with the unholy spirit of the man who dwelt in the house beyond.
Up to this moment Julia had seen no sign of life, but as she urged The
Prince forward towards the shut front door gleaming dingily green
between the vivid colours of the cedars, a monstrous dog appeared from
somewhere and disputed her passage with a low growl and bristling
hackles. It was a fierce beast, half-starved, huge, savage as a tiger.
It was a boar-hound of foreign breed--Marston had a number of them,
though Julia, of course, knew nothing of this. The Prince stopped as
this spectre of war took its place in front of him, and Julia felt the
rigour which swept his frame. But he did not attempt to bolt. He merely
stood with bright eyes, watching the sinister apparition. The dog was
not inclined to be aggressive; he merely appeared to be a sentinel, his
duty being to stop further progress of the intruders. Julia did not know
what to do. She would not retreat now. She was before the lion's den,
and she would see him before she withdrew. She _had_ to see him, for
life and death hung in the balance. If she did not see him she was
surely lost; if she did see him, there was a chance. The dog had no
notion of retiring, and the situation was rapidly becoming strained.
Just as she had made up her mind to call, and try and bring some one to
her aid, a shrill whistle sounded somewhere in the rear. The brute
before her turned its head, and its tail drooped. The whistle was
repeated, louder than before, and thereupon the guardian of the way
forsook his post, and retreated in a trot around the corner of the
house. Julia promptly rode forward. There was some open ground between
the trees, and she presently found herself in a clear space just in
front of the house. Some flagstones were placed before the wooden step
under the portals, and an iron knocker was imbedded in one of the panels
of the massive doors. Should she dismount, and raise a summons? The very
atmosphere was oppressive, in spite of the enveloping sunshine. She
hesitated again; she did not know what to do. Everything was so
different from all to which she had been accustomed. Here was silence,
mystery, secrecy; a house without a window or door open to that glorious
morning. And the only sign of life that had been evinced was a ferocious
dog, and a whistle from some hidden source, which must have come from
human lips. She looked about her piteously,