

E-text prepared by Lionel Sear



DICK AND BROWNIE.

by

Mabel Quiller-Couch






CONTENTS.


Chapter.

   I.       THE ESCAPE.

   II.      A NIGHT SCARE.

   III.     WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT.

   IV.      MISS ROSE.

   V.       SURPRISES.

   VI.      HULDAH GOES SHOPPING.

   VII.     A MEETING AND AN ALARM.

   VIII.    TRACKED DOWN.

   IX.      TO THE RESCUE.

   X.       ONE SUMMER'S AFTERNOON.

   XI.      HULDAH'S NEW HOME.

   XII.     HAPPY HOURS.




CHAPTER I.


THE ESCAPE.

The summer sun blazed down scorchingly on the white road, on the wide
stretch of moorland in the distance, and on the little coppice which
grew not far from the road.

The only shady spot for miles, it seemed, was that one under the
trees in the little coppice, where the caravan stood; but even there
the heat was stifling, and the smell of hot blistering varnish
mingled with the faint scent of honeysuckle and dog-roses.

Not a sound broke the stillness, for even the birds had been driven
to shelter and to silence, and except for the rabbits very few other
live things lived about there, to make any sounds.  That afternoon
there were four other live things in the coppice, but they too were
silent, for they were wrapped in deep sleep.  The four were a man and
a woman, a horse and a dog, and of all the things in that stretch of
country they were the most unlovely.  The man and the woman were
dirty, untidy, red-faced and coarse.  Even in their sleep their faces
looked cruel and sullen.  The old horse standing patiently by, with
drooping head and hopeless, patient eyes, looked starved and weak.
His poor body was so thin that the bones seemed ready to push through
the skin, on which showed the marks of the blows he had received that
morning.  The fourth creature there was a dog, as thin as the horse,
but younger, a lank, yellow, ugly, big-bodied dog, with a clever
head, bright, speaking brown eyes, and as keen a nose for scent as
any dog ever born possessed.

The brown eyes had been closed for a while in slumber, but presently
they opened alertly; a fly had bitten his nose, and the owner of the
nose got up to catch the fly.  This done, he looked around him.
He looked with drooped ears and tail at the sleeping man and woman,
with ears a little raised at the old horse, and then with both ears
and tail alertly cocked he looked about him eagerly, even anxiously.
A second later he was leaping up the steps and into the caravan; but
in less than a minute he was out again, leaping over the steps at the
other end, and out to the edge of the coppice.  What he was in search
of was not in the van, or under it, or anywhere near it.

The dog did not whine, or make a sound.  He knew better than that.
A whine would have brought a heavy boot flying through the air at
him, or a stick across his back, or a kick in the ribs, if he were
foolish enough to go within reach of a foot.  With his long nose to
the ground he stepped delicately to the edge of the coppice, then
stood still looking about him, his brown eyes full of wistful
anxiety.

He looked to the right, he looked to the left, he listened eagerly,
then he stepped back to the van again.  This time he found something.
It was only a clue, but it sent his spirits up again, and with his
nose to the ground he came quickly back to the edge of the little
wood and beyond it; then, evidently satisfied, he took to his heels
and raced away with a joy which almost forced a yelp of triumph from
his throat.

The old horse raised his head and looked after the dog wistfully.
"If only I were as young and fleet, and able to get away as quietly!"
he thought longingly, and sighed a sigh which made his thin sides
heave painfully.  Then his head drooped again, even more sadly than
before, and he closed his eyes patiently once more.  He loved the
lank yellow dog.  Next to little Huldah he loved him better than
anything in the world.  It hurt him as much or more to hear the stick
raining blows on them as it did to feel it on his own poor battered
body