It was pitch black inside and the air seemed to ring with silence. Thorn felt his way toward the stairs. There, he groped for a lightswitch, and finding none, proceeded silently upward, until he had reached the landing. He had never seen the house this dark, and realized he must have been outside, lost in thought, for a considerable time. Around him, he could hear the sound of slumbered breathing, and he walked quietly, feeling his way along the wall. His hand hit a light-switch and he flicked it, but it did not work; he continued on, turning a bend in the long, angular hall. Ahead he could see Damien's room, a faint shaft of light coming from under the door. But he suddenly froze, for he thought he heard a sound. It was a kind of vibration, a low rumble, gone before he could identify it, replaced only by the silent atmosphere of the hall. He prepared to step forward, but the sound came again, louder this time, causing his heart to start pounding. Then he looked down and saw the eyes. With a sudden gasp, he flattened himself against the wall, the growl rising in intensity as a dog materialized from the darkness and stood guard before the child's door. With his breath coming shallow, Thorn stood petrified, the gutteral sound rising, the eyes glaring back.

"Whoa .. . whoa . . ." uttered Thorn on a shaking breath, and his voice caused the animal to coil tighter, as if ready to spring.

"Quiet down, now," said Mrs. Baylock as she appeared from her room. "This is the master of the house."

And the dog fell silent, the drama suddenly ended. Mrs. Baylock touched a light switch and the hall was instantly illuminated, leaving Thorn breathless, staring down at the dog.

"What... is this?" he gasped.

"Sir?" asked Mrs. Baylock casually.

"This dog."

"Shepherd, I think. Isn't he beautiful? We found him in the forest."

The dog lay at her feet now, suddenly unconcerned.

"Who gave you permission ... ?"

"I thought we could use a good watchdog, and the boy absolutely loves him."

Thorn was still shaken, standing stiffly against the wall, and Mrs. Baylock could not hide her amusement.

"Gave you a fright, did he?"

"Yes."

"See how good he is? As a watchdog, I mean? Believe me, you'll be grateful to have him here when you're gone."

"When I'm gone?" asked Thorn.

"On your trip. Aren't you going to Saudi Arabia?"

"How do you know about Saudi Arabia?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I didn't know it was a secret."

"I haven't told anybody here."

"It was Mrs. Horton told me."

Thorn nodded, his eyes moving again toward the dog.

"He won't be any trouble," assured the woman. "We're only going to feed him scraps . . ."

"I don't want him here," snapped Thorn.

She gazed at him with surprise. "You don't like dogs?"

"When I want a dog, I'll choose it."