I felt it last night. It
was thus:--
Last night, I was sitting here in my study, writing. The door, leading
into the garden, was half open. At times, the metallic rattle of a dog's
chain, sounded faintly. It belongs to the dog I have bought, since
Pepper's death. I will not have him in the house--not after Pepper.
Still, I have felt it better to have a dog about the place. They are
wonderful creatures.
I was much engrossed in my work, and the time passed, quickly.
Suddenly, I heard a soft noise on the path, outside in the garden--pad,
pad, pad, it went, with a stealthy, curious sound. I sat upright, with a
quick movement, and looked out through the opened door. Again the noise
came--pad, pad, pad. It appeared to be approaching. With a slight
feeling of nervousness, I stared into the gardens; but the night hid
everything.
Then the dog gave a long howl, and I started. For a minute, perhaps, I
peered, intently; but could hear nothing. After a little, I picked up
the pen, which I had laid down, and recommenced my work.
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