The reverie was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the grass behind, and she turned quickly to find the two men approaching her, one of them leading the captive Bras by the leash.  Sheila sprang to her feet with a great gladness.  She did not care even to accuse the culprit, whose consciousness of guilt was evident in his look and in the droop of his tail.  Bras did not once turn his eyes to his mistress.  He hung down his head, while he panted rapidly, and she fancied she saw some smearing of blood on his tongue and on the side of his jaw.  Her fears on this head were speedily confirmed.

“I think, miss, as you’d better take him out o’ the Park as soon as may be, for he’s got a deer killed close by the Robin Hood Gate, in the trees there; and if the keepers happen on it afore you leave the Park, you’ll get into trouble.”

“Oh, thank you!” said Sheila, retaining her composure bravely, but with a terrible sinking of the heart; “and how can I get to the nearest railway station?”

“You’re going to London, miss?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I suppose the nearest is Richmond; but it would be quieter for you—­don’t you see, miss?—­if you was to go along to the Roehampton Gate and go to Barnes.”

“Will you show me the gate?” said Sheila, choosing the quieter route at once.

But the men themselves did not at all like the look of accompanying her and this dog through the Park.  Had they not already condoned a felony, or done something equally dreadful, in handing to her a dog that had been found keeping watch and ward over a slain buck?  They showed her the road to the Roehampton Gate, and then they paused before continuing on their journey.

The pause meant money.  Sheila took out her purse.  There were three sovereigns and some silver in it, and the entire sum, in fulfillment of her promise, she held out to him who had so far conducted the negotiations.

Both men looked frightened.  It was quite clear that either good feeling or some indefinite fear of being implicated in the killing of the deer caused them to regard this big bribe as something they could not meddle with; and at length, after a pause of a second or two, the spokesman said with great hesitation, “Well, miss, you’ve kep’ your word; but me and my mate—­well, if so be as it’s the same to you—­’d rather have summut to drink your health.”

“Do you think it is too much?”

The man looked at his neighbor, who nodded.

“It was only for ketchin’ of a dawg, miss, don’t you see?” he remarked slowly, as if to impress upon her that they had had nothing to do with the deer.

“Will you take this, then?” and she offered them half a crown each.

Their faces lightened considerably:  they took the money, and with a formal expression of thanks moved off, but not before they had taken a glance round to see that no one had been a witness of this interview.