The Mynns' Mystery Part 54

They were on the way to the drawing-room, and the doctor had just opened the door.

There was a loud bark, and the sound of something being overturned.

"Bruno! Bruno!" cried Gertrude, as she caught the dog by his collar.

"Bless us and save us, my dear!" cried Mrs Hampton. "Do have that dog locked up."

"What's that? My patient!" said the young man, as he entered the drawing-room.

Gertrude's ears tingled, for this was all new to those present.

There was a volley of barks and the dog stood panting and listening.

"Well, Bruno, old fellow; how's the head?"

The dog gave a joyful whine, ran to him, and tried to raise himself up so as to place his paws upon the speaker's breast, but failed.

"Come, you are ten times better than when I saw you last--ever so much stronger, too. Why, the head's getting all right again."

"When did he see him last?" thought Mrs Hampton.

"Why, you seem old friends," said Doctor Lawrence.

"Yes," said Gertrude quickly. "Mr George Harrington saw me when I was down the garden one day with the dog."

The lawyer coughed.

"No, sir, don't do that," said the young man laughing, as he sat with the dog resting his heavy head upon his knee.

"Do what, sir?"

"Cough in that meaning way. It is a reflection upon the lady."

"Oh, indeed!"

"Either upon her seeing me one day by accident, or upon her calling me Mr George Harrington. Come, Mr Hampton it is of no use your holding back. Never mind the lawyer. The man believes I am George Harrington, and surely there can be no harm in two affianced folk having half an hour's chat about a dog."

The position was most painful for Gertrude, but there was a sudden diversion, for the gate-bell rang, and Mrs Hampton came to her help.

"Visitors! and to-night. Why, my dear, whom do you expect?"

A pause ensued as steps were heard, and directly after the old housekeeper entered quickly to whisper to Gertrude:

"Mr Saul, miss, and he does seem so strange."

Saul Harrington had entered close behind her, a strange, ghastly-looking object, the more strange in aspect from his hair clinging above his dark brow, and his dress consisting mainly of an overcoat tightly-b.u.t.toned about his throat.

"My dear sir!" cried the doctor, as he hurried to his side; but at that moment there was an ominous sound, and Saul seized a chair and whirled it above his head.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

WHAT MR BLANK THOUGHT.

"Quick! Pray! Oh, Bruno, Bruno!" shrieked Gertrude, as she dashed forward to seize the dog--a vain attempt, for stronger hands had already failed to hold the furious beast, who had p.r.i.c.ked up his ears at Mrs Denton's mention of the name, and then, as Saul entered the room, given vent to a deep-toned roar, and, as if once more in possession of his full strength, leaped at his old enemy's throat.

The attempt made by George Harrington to hold him was vain, but his second attempt was more successful, though it was made after receiving a heavy blow from the chair with which Saul struck at the dog, falling in the effort, to lie p.r.o.ne with Bruno's teeth fixed in the tightly-b.u.t.toned collar of his coat.

"Let go, dog! Let go!" roared George, seizing Bruno's collar with both hands, and by the exercise of his great strength wrenching him away with the collar of the coat in his teeth.

Then ensued a tremendous struggle, the dog making furious plunges to get at the prostrate figure, growling and barking the while, with the accompanying worrying sound made by a dog half mad with rage.

"It's no good, my lad," cried George excitedly. "I've got you. Hold still!"

For response the dog threw his head from side to side, making frantic plunges, and ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have let him go, but, after a desperate fight, Bruno was thrown and held securely, his opponent pressing him to the carpet by the help of his bended knee.

"He's done," panted the young man. "Do you give in, sir?"

The dog uttered a low whine, that sounded like a remonstrance, and lay quite still.

"Get that gentleman out of the room quickly. Or no. Here, Gertrude, show me where I can lock up the dog. A room, outhouse--anywhere."

"Better shoot him. The dog's mad," cried Mr Hampton excitedly.

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Gertrude.

"The dog's not mad," panted George. "You lead the way."

"Yes, yes," cried Gertrude.

"I think I can hold him. Stand on one side, and be ready to shut the window to as soon as I get him outside."

"I'm ready," said Gertrude, with a calm display of courage which brought forth an admiring glance.

"Then stand clear."

Removing his knee, George Harrington dragged the dog quickly along the carpet, and out on to the lawn. The window was closed, and Gertrude ran to his side.

"This way," she cried; and running to the side of the house she drew open a door in the wall, through which, after another fierce struggle, the dog was dragged, the door banged to, and then Gertrude ran across the yard and opened the stable door.

"Pray, pray, mind he doesn't bite you," she cried in agony.

"No fear; I've got him too tightly; besides he hasn't tried. By Jove!

he has got his strength again, and no mistake. There, sir, you're mastered."

As he spoke, he gave his captive a swing forward, dashed back, and closed the door, just as the dog bounded at it, and tore at the panel, baying furiously.