mmand, I spent much time each day in exercising them, and in
endeavouring by kind words, and by my own example, to make them attend
strictly to their work. I was pleased to observe that I succeeded. Some,
who were pointed out to me as difficult to manage, became my most
faithful followers, and I had not been two months in my employment before
all were so devoted to me, that I believe they would have died to serve
me.

In all this time, nothing had been heard of the terrible Lupo, and all my
inquiries procured no information concerning where he was to be found. I
learned that he was not a native of Caneville, although his father once
belonged to the city. He was born in a country beyond the great wood, and
his mother came from a fierce tribe of wolves, who, although they a
little resemble dogs in appearance, and speak a very similar language,
are much more ferocious, and seem to look upon the whole canine family as
natural enemies.

The opinion began to spread in Caneville that Lupo had at length left the
city, and the inhabitants, by degrees, recovered their usual quiet; when,
suddenly, the alarm spread more widely than before; as, two nights in
succession, some rich dogs were robbed and ill-treated, and one of them
was lamed by the ferocity of the chief of the terrible band who had
attacked them, and whose description convinced me it was Lupo.

These accounts caused me much pain, as I had neither been able to prevent
the attacks, nor discover the animals who had made them. In my desire to
find out and capture the robbers, I could scarcely take food or rest. I
managed to sleep a little in the day-time, and at night, dressed in the
simplest manner, so as to excite no attention, I wandered quietly from
street to street, stopping to listen to the slightest noise, and going in
any direction that I heard a murmur. One or two of my dogs generally
followed at a distance, ready to assist me if I called for help.

It was a fine night. The moon and stars were brilliant in the sky, and
made the blue all the deeper from their own bright rays. I had been
already two hours crawling through the lower parts of the city, and was
mounting the hill which led to a fine building where my steps often
carried me--sometimes without my intending it--in order to watch over the
safety of those who slept within. It was the house of Fida--that Fida who
had been to me so kind, so tender; that Fida, who so patiently softened
down my rudeness, and