The squire breathed hard, for it had been a terrible moment.

If he had not succeeded in calling the beast back, it might have been all over with Walter Goddard, wherever he was hidden.
"It is only his play," said Mr.Juxon, still very white and holding Stamboul by the collar.

"Please tell Mrs.Goddard, Martha, that I am very sorry indeed to hear that she is ill, and that I will inquire this evening." "Yes, sir," said Martha, who eyed the panting beast timidly and showed an evident desire to shut the door as soon as possible.
The squire felt more nervous than ever as he walked slowly along the road in the direction of the village, his hand still on the bloodhound's collar.

He felt what a narrow escape Goddard had probably had, and the terrible sound of Stamboul's baying had brought back to him once again and very vividly the scene in the woods by the Bosphorus.

He felt that for a few minutes at least he would rather not enter the park with the dog by him, and he naturally turned towards the vicarage, not with any intention of going in, but from sheer force of custom, as people under the influence of strong emotions often do things unconsciously which they are in the habit of doing.