“He is!  He is!” sobbed Gracie.  “He—­he has been killed—­by—­by his own chain!”

“What!” said Piers again.

Gaspingly she told him the tragic tale.  “Father always will have him kept on the chain, and—­and—­”

“An infernally cruel thing to do!” broke indignantly from Piers.

“Yes, we—­we all said so.  And we tried to give him little outings sometimes to—­to make up.  But to-day—­somehow—­we forgot him, and—­and he must have seen us go, and jumped the wall after us.  Pat and I went back afterwards to fetch him, and found him—­found him—­oh, Piers!” She cried out in sudden agony and said no more.

“Choked?” said Piers.  “Choked with his own chain, poor devil!” He looked up again at Avery with something unfathomable in his eyes.  “Oh, don’t cry so, child!” he said.  “A chained creature is happier dead—­a thousand times happier!”

He spoke passionately, so passionately that Gracie’s wild grief was stayed.  She lifted her face, all streaming with tears.  “Do you think so really?”

“Of course I think so,” he said.  “Life on a chain is misery unspeakable.  No one with any heart could condemn a dog to that!  It’s the refinement of cruelty.  Don’t wish the poor beast back again!  Be thankful he’s gone!”

The vehemence of his speech was such that it carried conviction even to Gracie’s torn heart.  She looked up at him with something of wonder and of awe.  “If only—­he hadn’t suffered so!” she whispered.

He put his hand on her forehead and smoothed back the clustering hair.  “You poor kid!” he said pityingly.  “You’ve suffered much more than he did at the end.  But it’s over.  Don’t fret!  Don’t fret!”

Gracie lifted trembling lips to be kissed.  He was drying her eyes with his own handkerchief as tenderly as any woman.  He stooped and kissed her.  “Look here!  I’ll walk home with you,” he said.  “Avery, you go back with Crowther!  I shan’t be late.”

Avery turned at once.  The sight of Piers soothing the little girl’s distress had comforted her subtly.  She felt that his mood had softened.

“Won’t you go too?” said Crowther, as she joined him.  “Please don’t stay on my account!  I am used to being alone, and I can find my own way back.”

“Oh no!” she said.  “I had better come with you.  I shan’t be wanted now.”

They started to walk back among the shocks of corn; but they had not gone many yards when Gracie came running after them, reached them, flung her arms about Avery.

“Good-bye, darling Avery!” she said.

Avery held her close.  She was sobbing still, but the first wild anguish of her grief was past.

“Good-bye, darling!” Avery whispered, after a moment.

Grade’s arms tightened.  “You think like Piers does?” she murmured.  “You think poor Mikey is happier now?”

Avery paused an instant.  The memory of Piers’ look as he had uttered the words:  “Choked with his own chain, poor devil!” seemed to grip her heart.  Then:  “Yes, dearie,” she said softly.  “I think as Piers does.  I am glad—­for poor Mikey’s sake—­that his troubles are over.”