He was, for the time, unafraid of anything that might creep up on him out of the darkness.

The blackest shadows had lost their terror.

It was the first big fight between the two natures that were born in him--the wolf and the dog--and the dog was vanquished.

Now and then he stopped to lick his wound, and as he licked it he growled, as though for the hurt itself he held a personal antagonism.

If Pierrot could have seen and heard, he would have understood very quickly, and he would have said: "Let him die.