He has told me to have a small tent pitched here for you.

The hound is to be chained to the post, and to share the tent with you.

You may, if you will, walk about the camp with him, but always keeping him in a chain; but if you do so it will be at your peril, for if he gets away your life will answer for it." In a short time two or three soldiers brought a small tent and erected it close by where the dog was chained up.

Archie unloosed the chain from the post round which it was fastened, and led Hector to the tent, the dog keeping close by his side and wagging his tail gravely, as if to show his appreciation of the change, to the satisfaction of the men to whom hitherto he had been a terror.
Some heather was brought for a bed, and a supply of food, both for the dog and his keeper, and the men then left the two friends alone.

Hector was sitting up on his haunches gazing affectionately at Archie, his tail beating the ground with slow and regular strokes.
"I know what you want to ask, old fellow," Archie said to him; "why I don't lead you at once to your master?
Don't you be impatient, old fellow, and you shall see him ere long;" and he patted the hound's head.
Hector, with a great sigh expressive of content and satisfaction, lay down on the ground by the side of the couch of heather on which Archie threw himself--his nose between his forepaws, clearly expressing that he considered his troubles were over, and could now afford to wait until in due time he should be taken to his master.
That night the camp slept quietly, for Hector was silent.