started perceptibly.

"'Sh!" Valentine hissed to the little dog. "'Sh! Rip! Quiet!"

The response of Rip was, with a violent scramble, to disentangle himself
from his covering, emerging from which he again barked with shrill and
piercing vehemence, at the same time leaping to the floor. By the sound,
which he could locate, Valentine felt certain that the dog had gone over
to the door.

"What on earth is he barking at?" Julian said in the darkness.

"I can't imagine. Hush, Rip! S-sh!"

"Val, turn on the light, quick! You're nearest to it."

Valentine stretched out his hand hastily, and in a flash the room sprang
into view. He was right. Rip was crouched--his front legs extended along
the floor, his hind legs standing almost straight--close to the door,
and facing it full. His head was down, and moving, darting this way and
that, as if he were worrying the feet of some person who was trying to
advance from the door into the centre of the room. All his teeth showed,
and his yellow eyes were glaring fiercely.

Julian, who had thrown a hasty and searching glance round the room when
the light was turned on, sprang forward and bent down to him.

"Rip! Rip!" he said. "Silly! What's the matter? Silly dog!" and he began
to stroke him.