The animal struggled furiously, but Harry retained his grasp round its neck.

In vain the hound tried to free itself from its blinding encumbrance, or to bite his assailant through it, and struggled to shake off his hold with its legs and claws.
Harry maintained his grasp tightly round its neck, with his head pressed closely against one of its ears.

Several times they rolled over and over.

At last Harry made a great effort when he was uppermost, and managed to get his knees upon the animal's belly, and then, digging his toes in the ground, pressed with all his weight upon it.
There was a sound as of cracking of bones, then the dog's struggles suddenly ceased, and his head fell over, and Harry rose to his feet by the side of the dead hound just as a number of men, with pitch-forks and other weapons, ran up to the spot from the stables, while the marquis, sword in hand, arrived from the house.
The gouvernante, too, paralysed by fear, had stood close by with her charges while the struggle was going on.

Ernest had come up, and was standing in front of his sisters, ready to be the next victim if the dog had overpowered Harry.