howl of rage and impatience. Nothing prevented the entrance of the
animal except the form of Rawbon, who still leaned quietly against the
rude frame, which, hanging upon leathern hinges, closed the aperture.

There was something frightful in the hoarse snarling of the angry beast,
as he dashed his heavy shoulder against the rickety framework, and
Oriana shrank nervously to Harold's side.

"Secure that dog!" he said, as, while soothing the trembling girl, he
looked over his shoulder reproachfully at Rawbon. His tone was low, and
even gentle, but it was tremulous with passion. But the man gave no
answer, and continued leering at them as before.

Arthur walked to him and spoke almost in an accent of entreaty.

"Sir, for the sake of your manhood, take away your dog and leave us."

He did not answer.

The hound, excited by the sound of voices, redoubled his efforts and his
fury. Oriana was sinking into Harold's arms.

"This must end," he muttered. "Arthur, take her from me, she's fainting.
I'll go out and brain the dog."

"Not yet, not yet," whispered Arthur. "For her sake be calm," and while
he received Oriana upon one arm, with the other he sought to stay his
friend.

But Harold seized a brand from the fire, and sprang toward the door.