"I shall have to go for help, Dido," I said, after a few minutes,
trusting to her sense to understand. But as I rose to go and she saw
that I was leaving her, she began immediately a loud, almost hysterical
barking, interspersed with little piteous moans and whimpers which were
most painful to hear.

I did not know what to do, so I began to cry myself, and then I knelt
down beside her and began again my useless effort to release her.

The sun by now was sinking low, although there would be light for an
hour or two yet. I guessed that it must be seven o'clock, and I knew
that my grandmother would be uneasy about me, and that presently my
grandfather would have to be told, and the whole household would be
anxious. What was I to do? I could not even think that they would come
this way looking for me, since they had not known of my intention of
coming home by Daly's Wood and the postern.

I was in the greatest perplexity and distress, and I never was so glad
in my life as when I heard a shout close at hand. I believe that if it
had been Richard Dawson himself I should have welcomed him at that
moment.

"Come this way, please," I called out. "My dog is caught in a trap and I
cannot leave her."

I heard some one come as I had come, on hands and knees, through the
undergrowth; then he emerged into the little glade and stood upright,
the grass and the leaves about his clothing.