Caniche instantly snatched up the breeches, and away
he flew. The stranger posted after him with his night-cap on, and
nearly _sans culottes_.

Anxiety for the fate of a purse full of double Napoleons, of forty
francs each, which was in one of the pockets, gave redoubled velocity
to his steps. Caniche ran full speed to his master's house, where the
stranger arrived a moment afterwards, breathless and furious. He
accused the dog of robbing him. "Sir," said the master, "my dog is a
very faithful creature, and if he has run away with your breeches, it
is because you have in them money which does not belong to you." The
traveller became still more exasperated. "Compose yourself, sir,"
rejoined the other, smiling; "without doubt there is in your purse a
six-livre piece with such and such marks, which you picked up in the
Boulevard St. Antoine, and which I threw down there with a firm
conviction that my dog would bring it back again. This is the cause of
the robbery which he has committed upon you!" The stranger's rage now
yielded to astonishment; he delivered the six-livre piece to the owner,
and could not forbear caressing the dog which had given him so much
uneasiness and such an unpleasant chase.

A shepherd on the Grampian Mountains, having left his child at the foot
of the hill, was soon enveloped in mist; and, unable to return to the
precise place, he could not discover the child. In vain he searched for
it in the midst of the mist, not knowing whither he went; and when, at
length, the moon shone clearly, he found himself at his cottage, and
far from the hill. He searched in vain next day, with a band of
shepherds. On returning to his cottage, he found that the dog, on
receiving a piece of cake, had instantly gone off. He renewed the
search for several days, and still the dog had disappeared, during his
absence, taking with it a piece of cake. Struck with this circumstance,
he remained at home one day, and when the dog, as usual, departed with
his piece of cake, he resolved to follow him. The dog led the way to a
cataract at some distance from the spot where the shepherd had left his
child.

The banks of the waterfall almost joined at the top, yet, separated by
an abyss of immense depth, presented that abrupt appearance which so
often astonishes and appals the traveller amidst the Grampian
Mountains. Down one of these rugged and almost perpendicular descents
the dog began, without hesitation, to make his way, and at