How he got Louie--in whose cheeks the fever-spots were rising--over the river he never quite remembered.

But at last he had dragged her up the hill, through the fields close to the house, where the lambs were huddling in the nipping dawn beside their mothers, and into the farmyard.
The house rose before them grey and frowning.

The lower windows were shuttered; in the upper ones the blinds were pulled closely down; not a sign of life anywhere.

Yes; the dogs had heard them! Such a barking as began! Jock, in his kennel by the front door, nearly burst his chain in his joyful efforts to get at them; while Tib, jumping the half-door of the out-house in the back yard, where he had been curled up in a heap of bracken, leapt about them and barked like mad.
Louie sank down crying and deathly pale on a stone by the stable door.
'They'll hear that fast enoof,' said David, looking anxiously up at the shut windows.
But the dogs went on barking, and nothing happened.

Ten minutes of chilly waiting passed away.
'Tak him away, _do!_' she cried, as Tib jumped up at her.