Without a word to him, she ran, and running shouted to the little ones around and ahead: 'In! in! indoors, children! "Blant, i'r ty!" Mothers, mothers, ho! get them in.

See the dog! "Ci! Ci!" In with them! "Blant, i'r ty! Vr ty!"' A big black mongrel appeared worrying at one of two petticoated urchins on the ground.
She scurried her swiftest, with such warning Welsh as she had on the top of her mountain cry; and doors flew wide, there was a bang of doors when she darted by: first gust of terrible heavens that she seemed to the cottagers.
Other shouts behind her rent the air, gathering to a roar, from the breasts of men and women.

'Mad dog about' had been for days the rumour, crossing the hills over the line of village, hamlet, farm, from Cardiff port.
Dead hush succeeded the burst.

Men and women stood off.

The brute was at the lady.
Her arms were straight above her head; her figure overhanging, on a bend of the knees.