There's no sense in--How in blue blazes he ever got fastened there,--if he really was,--is more than I can--" "Hush!" begged the Mistress, breaking in on his grumbled monologue.
"Listen!" Out of the darkness, beyond the knoll-top, came the sound of a bark,--the clear trumpeting welcome-bark which Lad reserved for the Mistress and the Master, alone; on their return from any absence.
Through the night it echoed, gaily, defiantly; again and again; ringing out above the obscene hiss and crackle and roar of the forest-fire.

And at every repetition, it was nearer and nearer the dumfounded listeners at the knoll foot.
"It's--it's Laddie!" cried the Mistress, in wondering rapture.

"Oh, it's LADDIE!" The Master, hearing the glad racket, did a thoroughly asinine thing.
Drawing in his breath and holding his coat in front of him, he prepared to make a dash through the wide smear of embers, to the hilltop; where, presumably, Lad was still tied.

But, before he could take the first step, the Mistress stayed him.
"Look!" she cried, pointing to the hither side of the knoll; lividly bright in the ember-glow.
Down the steep was galloping at breakneck speed a great, tawny shape.
Barking rapturously,--even as he had barked when first the whistle's blast had roused him from his lazy repose in the lakeside shallows,--Lad came whizzing toward the two humans who watched so incredulously his wild approach.
The Master, belatedly, saw that the collie could not avoid crashing into the spread of embers; and he opened his mouth to order Lad back.
But there was not time.
For once, the wise dog took no heed of even the simplest caution.

His lost and adored deities had called him and were awaiting him.