Mabel Quiller-Couch

The old horse standing patiently by, with drooping head and hopeless, patient eyes, looked starved and weak. His poor body was so thin that the bones seemed ready to push through the skin, on which showed the marks of the blows he had received that morning. Nearby was Dick, the dog, as thin as the horse, but younger -- a lank, yellow, ugly, big-bodied dog, with a clever head, bright, speaking brown eyes, and as keen a nose for scent as any dog ever born possessed. The dog set his nose to the ground he dashed to the edge of the little wood and beyond it . . . then took to his heels and raced ahead with a joy -- it was the scent of his little mistress, Huldah -- which almost forced a yelp of triumph from his throat. The old horse raised his head and looked after the dog wistfully. "If only I were as young and fleet, and able to get away as quietly " he thought longingly. Far ahead of the pursuing dog, Huldah looked around nervously. She was not so frightened by the prospect of the want and loneliness and uncertainty which lay before her, as she was by the thought of being caught -- and taken back again . . . for she had escaped those cruel people and never wanted to see them again

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