them all, and doing himself justice. So, with an impudent flick of
his tail he followed Huldah, with the air of one who would not deign
to fight mere farm-dogs.

It was a very weary, dejected pair, though, that at last stopped
running, and summoned courage to stand and look about them once more;
and the fright had so shaken Huldah's courage that when presently she
caught sight of more smoking chimneys, and a group of little grey
stone houses, and other signs of life not far ahead of them, she felt
almost more sorry than glad.

When she came closer, and found the village street full of people,
she felt decidedly sorry, and wished wildly that she had gone any
other way, and so avoided them.

After the terrible heat of the day, men, women and children had all
turned out of their close, stifling cottages, and were sitting or
lounging about on doorstep or pavement, enjoying the coolness of the
evening air; and, having nothing to do and little to talk about, and
not much to look at, they naturally took a great interest in the
odd-looking pair which came suddenly into their midst. The dusty,
shabby little girl and the lanky yellow dog.

Huldah did not appreciate their interest. She felt ill with
nervousness, when she saw all the eyes turned towards her, and, she
longed to be out on the moor again,--anywhere, lost, hungry, lonely,
tired, rather than under this fire of eyes. She had wanted very much
to try to sell one of her baskets, that she might be able to buy some
bread, but the staring people daunted her. She felt she could not
have stopped and spoken to one of them, or have offered her wares, to