told her he was "very dangerous," and was never loosed except at
night; consequently, the expression of his fierce, red eyes, as he
stood over her, was well calculated to alarm her; but at that
instant Mr. Murray's voice thundered:

"Keep still! don't move! or you will be torn to pieces!" Then
followed some rapid interjections and vehement words in the same
unintelligible dialect which had so puzzled her once before, when
her grandfather could not control the horse he was attempting to
shoe. The dog was sullen and unmanageable, keeping his black muzzle
close to her face, and she grew pale with terror as she noticed that
his shaggy breast and snarling jaws were dripping with blood.

Leaping from his horse, Mr. Murray strode up, and with a quick
movement seized the heavy brass collar of the savage creature,
hurled him back on his haunches, and held him thus, giving vent the
while to a volley of oaths.

Pointing to a large, half-decayed elm branch, lying at a little
distance, he tightened his grasp on the collar, and said to the
still trembling girl:

"Bring me that stick, yonder."

Edna complied, and there ensued a scene of cursing, thrashing, and
howling, that absolutely sickened her. The dog writhed, leaped,
whined, and snarled; but the iron hold was not relaxed, and the face
of the master rivaled in rage that of the brute, which seemed as
ferocious as the hounds of Gian Maria Visconti, fed with human
flesh, by Squarcia Giramo. Distressed by the severity and duration