Some, alarmed by Tom Fool, came rushing from the guard-rooms down
the stair, and others, chiefly farm-servants and grooms, who had
heard the frightful news from two that were in the yard when the
panther bounded over the wall, were approaching from the opposite
side, armed with scythes and pitchforks, the former more dangerous
to their bearers than to the beast.
Dorothy, into whom, girl as she was, either Bellona or Diana, or
both, had entered, was now thoroughly excited by the conflict she
ruled, although she had not wasted a moment in watching it. Having
just undone the collar of the fourth dog, she was hounding him on
with a cry, little needed, as she flew to let go the fifth, a small
bull-terrier, mad with rage and jealousy, when the crowd swept
between her and her game. The beast was captured, and the dogs taken
off him, ere the terrier had had a taste or Dorothy a glimpse of the
battle.
As the men with cart-ropes dragged the panther away, terribly torn
by the teeth of the dogs, and Tom Fool was following them, with his
hands in his pockets, looking sheepish because of the share he had
had in letting him loose, and the share he had not had in securing
him again, Dorothy was looking about for her friend Marquis.
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