Part 7 (2/2)

When the shutters upon which Lyon Berners and Robert Munson lay were each carefully lifted by the hands of four men, and the little procession was about to start, Captain Pendleton called to Joe, saying:

”You must go with me to have your limb looked to, and also to be with your master, who will need familiar faces near him when he comes to himself.”

”Yes, sir; Ma.r.s.e Capping Pendulum, I will go. But oh, my Hebbenly Lord, what will I have to tell my poor marster, when he opens his eyes and looks at me?” cried Joe, bursting into tears.

”Come, come, be a man! Stop howling, and do your duty--which is now to follow your master,” expostulated the captain.

”Yes, sir, I'll do it; but I must get Nelly fust. I couldn't leave her, poor little dog, here to pine away and die in the vault,” sighed Joe, who then lifting his voice, cried, ”Nelly! Nelly!”

But no dog answered. So Joe hobbled his way back to the opening of the vault, and looking down into it, exclaimed:

”Bless my two eyes! ef there she an't a-whinin and a-pawin' and a-sarchin' as persemoniously as ever!--Nelly! Nelly!”

At the sound of his voice the little terrier ran up from the vault, and leaped upon him.

Joe stooped and picked her up in his arms, and hugged her affectionately to his bosom, as he said:

”You see it's no use stayin' here, my poor little dog. Our mistess an't nowheres about here.”

Nelly was however of a different opinion, and she whined and struggled to be released; and when Joe held her faster, she growled and threatened him with her teeth.

”Can't help it, my little darling. Our mistess an't nowhere round, and it an't no use your staying here to grieve yourself to death among the ruins. You've got to go along with me--OWTCH! you little devil, you!”

exclaimed Joe, suddenly breaking off in his discourse, and dropping the dog; who, having found that all her efforts to release herself had been in vain, had made her little teeth meet in the fleshy part of the negro's hand.

”Was there ever sich a vicious little beast?” cried Joe, as he hobbled away, sucking the blood from his wounded member. ”Now she may stay there for me. I don't care ef she do pine herself to death, agrawatin' little brute!”

And so, grumbling and growling, he hobbled after the little procession that was now well on its way through the thicket.

Meanwhile little Nelly ran back into the vault, and re-commenced her irrational investigations.

The hours of the night wore on. The men who had been sent in search of the horses, with great difficulty found and caught them, and brought them back to the scene of the explosion. The dead bodies were bound upon their backs, and they were led through the thicket to the road, where the empty wagon was waiting. As there were five bodies and but two horses, and as only one body could be bound upon one horse at a time, it was necessary to make three trips through the thicket, before they could all be got upon the wagon. So it was a work of time and trouble to remove all the dead from the scene of the catastrophe. At length, however, the last body was bound upon the last horse and led away by the last man that left the spot.

And of all the living crowd that had filled the churchyard and surrounded the ruin, none was left but the little Skye terrier Nelly, who was still at work in the vault.

What was she doing?

She had concentrated her attention and her energies upon one spot--a moderate sized heap of densely packed rubbish in one corner. She was scratching away at this heap; she had already burrowed a hole of some depth; and still she scratched away, with all her might and main, until her strength failed; and then she sat down on her hind quarters and panted until she recovered her breath; and then she re-commenced and scratched away for dear life until something fell on the other side, and with a bark and bound of joy, she leaped through the aperture and ran snuffing along the damp ground.

EUREKA!! the little Skye terrier had discovered what human intelligence had failed to do! She had found the secret subterranean pa.s.sage, and now be sure she will find her mistress.

CHAPTER V.

THE ROBBERS' CAVE.

There's ae thing yet; there's twa things yet, To brag on that ye know; They never, never failed a friend, And never feared a foe.--NICOLL.

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