In a voice shaken with emotion my brother-in-law stated that he should regard any such treatment as a treacherous and aggravated assault upon his person.

“Don’t let there be any mistake about it,” he concluded.  “I’m not going to have any amateur life-savers burning holes in my body in the hope of being recommended by the Coroner’s Jury.  If I’ve got to die, I’ll just go mad in the ordinary way, thank you.  I wonder who I shall bite first,” he added pleasantly.

“Don’t you worry,” said I.  “Think what hydrophobia means.”

“What does it mean?”—­suspiciously.

“A horror of water,” said I.  “You must have had it for years.”

* * * * *

We left the theatre about eleven o’clock.

We had just come in, and I was disrobing in the hall—­Berry was speaking to the chauffeur—­when an exclamation from Jill, who was on the point of following Daphne and Jonah into the library, made me look round.

On the top step of the first flight of stairs stood a little white dog, regarding us squarely.  He might have been painted by Maud Earl.  His ears were pricked, his little forefeet placed close together, his tail was upright.  A gas officer would have said that he was “in the alert position.”

“Hello, Nobby,” said I.  “How goes it?”

At the sound of his name the terrier put his small head on one side with an air of curiosity as evident as it was attractive.

“What a darling!” cried Jill.

As she spoke I heard a latch-key inserted, and the next moment Berry pushed open the door.

Breathing out threatenings, the darling streaked down the stairs and across the hall to the new-comer’s feet, where he stood with his back arched, one fore-paw raised, and bared teeth, emitting a long low snarl, while there was a look in the bright brown eyes which there was no mistaking.

My brother-in-law stood as if rooted to the spot.

Jill began to shake with laughter.

“What did I say?” said Berry, remaining motionless.  “Can’t enter my own house now.  It’s all right, old chap,” he added, gazing at Nobby with a winning smile.  “I belong here.”

His statement was not accepted.  Nobby, who was clearly taking no risks, replied with a growl charged with such malevolence that I thought it advisable to interfere.

I addressed myself to the terrier.

“Good man,” I said reassuringly, patting Berry upon the shoulder.

Jonah contends that the dog construed my movement as an attempted assault, which it was his duty to abet.  In any event, in less time than it takes to record, the growl culminated in that vicious flurry which invariably accompanies the closing of jaws, there was a noise of torn cloth, and with a yell Berry leapt for and reached the bookcase to which he adhered, clinging rather than perched, after the manner of a startled ape.

A roar of laughter from me and long, tremulous wails of merriment from Jill brought my sister and Jonah pellmell upon a never-to-be-forgotten scene.