even stopping his jaws — to listen. Some real or fancied sound, some clink upon the river or breathing of beast upon the marsh, now gave him a start, and he said, suddenly, —
“You're not a deceiving imp?
You brought no one with you?”
“No, sir! No!”
“Nor giv' no one the office to follow you?”
“No!”
“Well,” said he, “I believe you. You'd be but a fierce young hound indeed, if at your time of life you could help to hunt a wretched warmint hunted as near death and dunghill as this poor wretched warmint is!”
Something clicked in his