The last outrage, however, was by far the most brutal, and it came about in this manner.  It was County Court day at a small market town over the hills, and Moses, accompanied by his dog, went with his summonses.  One of these was served against a man known as ‘Oliver o’ Deaf Martha’s’—­himself the owner of the most belligerent dog in the neighbourhood—­who, like Moses, never moved without his canine friend.  When his summons was heard judgment went against him, and he was ordered to pay ten shillings a month until the debt was wiped off.  At this he uttered a curse, muttering to Moses that he would be even with him, but little thinking his chance would so soon come to hand.  Passing out of the Court into the street, he saw his own dog and that of Moses snarling at one another, but harmlessly, as both were muzzled.  Taking a knife from his pocket, he cut the leather straps that bound the mouth of his own dog, and, throwing it at the other, bade it go to work with its worrying.  It needed no second word of encouragement; and in a moment, the other dog, handicapped by its muzzle, was at the mercy of its foe.  Over and over they rolled, amid jeers, and cheers, and curses, worrying, foaming, and choking, until at last the dog owned by Moses was hors de combat, and helpless in the other’s grip.

‘Fair play!’ cried some among the crowd.  ’Cut t’other dog’s muzzle!’ screamed others.  ‘Tak’ thy dog off, Oliver,’ urged a youth, who saw the injustice of the fight.  Yet none dared to approach.

Suddenly, Moses appeared on the steps of the Court-house, and seeing the peril of his much-loved dog, rushed into the fray, defenceless as he was, and seizing his pet, tore it from the grip of its opponent.

‘At him!’ cried Oliver, and in another moment Moses and his dog were on the ground, and powerless beneath the attack of the bull-terrier.  Moses remembered no more.  When he came to himself he was lying in his bed, under the smart of the doctor’s caustic and his wife’s fomentations.

‘Is th’ dog alive, missis?’ was the first question he asked.  And when told that it was, he faintly breathed a ‘Thank God!’ and fell away into another swoon.

* * * * *

‘Here’s Mr. Penrose to see thee, Moses; mun I ax him up?’

‘Thaa con do as thaa likes.’

’Come upstairs, Mr. Penrose; thaa con see him, he sez, if thaa likes.’

‘All right, Mrs. Fletcher; I’m coming,’ and in a moment the minister was at the bedside of the sick man.

Mr. Penrose and Moses were not the best of friends.  Indeed, the latter had threatened to gag the young preacher with the doctrinal deeds of Rehoboth, and was only waiting his opportunity.  Thus Mr. Penrose hardly knew how to console this sick member of his flock, and words refused to flow from his ministerial lips.  After a somewhat awkward pause, however, he ventured to remark: 

’This is the second time, I suppose, you have risked your life on behalf of Captain, Mr. Fletcher.’