"No, Jupe; we must go on, now. I'll take the risk, if you're not afraid
to follow me."
"Masser Charle, I ain't afraid. I'se told you I follow you anywhere--to
death if you need me die. I'se tell you that over again."
"And again thanks, my faithful friend! We won't talk of death, till
we've come up with Dick Darke. Then you shall see it one way or other.
He, or I, hasn't many hours to live. Come, Brasfort! you're wanted once
more."
Saying this, he lets the hound ahead, still keeping hold of the cord.
Before long, Brasfort shows signs that he has again caught scent. His
ears crisp up, while his whole body quivers along the spinal column from
neck to tail. There is a streak of the bloodhound in the animal; and
never did dog of this kind make after a man, who more deserved hunting
by a hound.