It was not so heavy as many machines of the kind, and at a quick word from the dwarf the dogs darted away.

Unseen, a mysterious figure hurried on after them, keeping well in the shadow of the trees fringing the side of the road.
The dwarf drove the dogs down a lonely side lane to the village, and came to the shed where lay the uncomely thing he had called brother.
He felt for a spot where there was a loose board, forced it and another with his strong fingers, and crawled in.

Reappearing with the dead body, he bore it in his huge arms to the stoneboat: a midget carrying a giant.
He covered up the face, and, returning to the shed, placed his coat against the boards to deaden the sound, and hammered them tight again with a stone, after having straightened the grass about.

Returning, he found the dogs cowering with fear, for one of them had pushed the cloth off the dead man's face with his nose, and death exercised its weird dominion over them.

They crouched together, whining and tugging at the traces.