Susan instinctively trembled. George once more pressed his lips to
her, as if they would grow there. William took her hand. She trembled
more and more.

"Take my hand; take your brother's hand, my poor lass," said he.

She trembled violently; and then George gave a cry that seemed to tear
his heart, and darted from them in a moment.

Poor Susan uttered more than one despairing scream, and stretched out
both her hands for George. He did not see her, for he dared not look
back.

"Bob, loose the dog," muttered William hastily, in a broken voice.

The dog was loosed, and ran after George, who, he thought, was only
going for a walk. Susan was sinking pale and helpless upon her
brother's bosom.

"Pray, sister," said gentle William; "pray, sister, as I must."

A faint shiver was all the answer; her senses had almost left her.

When George was a little way up the hill, something ran suddenly
against his legs----he started--it was Carlo. He turned and lifted up
his hands to Heaven; and William could see that George was blessing
him for this. Carlo was more than a dog to poor George at that cruel
moment. Soon after that, George and Carlo reached the crown of the
hill. George's figure stood alone a moment between them and the sky.