He was an arrant coward, and, more than that, he stood as much in fear of Marmion as if he had been a bear or panther.

Uttering a cry of terror, he dropped the bridle, and, with one bound, disappeared in the bushes.

Marmion followed close at his heels, encouraged by terrific yells from his master, who, now that his dog was neither bound nor muzzled, looked upon the capture of the robber as a thing beyond a doubt.

There was a loud crashing and snapping in the bushes, as the pursuer and pursued sped on their way, and presently another loud yell of terror, mingled with an angry growl, told Frank that the dog had come up with Pierre.
"He is caught at last," thought our hero; "how shall I get him home?
that's the question.

How desperately he fights," he added, as the commotion in the bushes increased, and the yells and growls grew louder.
"But he'll find it's no use, for he can't whip that dog, if he has got a knife.