d a stout rope to the new collar and handed the
end of this rope to Mr. Pixley, who was muffled in his big, fur coat. A
guide was with Mr. Pixley. As they stood there a moment, the door of the
Hospice again opened, and this time the grey-eyed man and another guide
came out. The kind, grey eyes looked at Jan, then the man stooped over
and patted him gently, and no one but the dog heard the pitying voice
that said, "Poor little Prince Jan! Good-bye!"

Brother Antoine lifted Jan's nose and the pup looked into the monk's
eyes, but there was something he did not understand. It was all so
different from what the other dogs had told him. He felt the rope tug
his collar and knew that he must follow this stranger. He heard again a
heart-rending howl from his mother, "Good-bye, Jan, good-bye!" Bruno's
voice blended with hers, and then the voices of all the dogs Jan knew
and loved mingled in that call. Something hurt him all over, but most of
the hurt was in his heart.

He halted suddenly, pulled stiffly on the rope and the wild cry he sent
in response echoed mournfully from the high, white crags and died away
to a whispering moan, as Prince Jan, with low-hanging head and drooping
tail, travelled down the path that his ancestors had trodden many years
on their errands of mercy. He wondered why he had been sent out with a
rope tied to his collar, why no older dog went with him, and why he must
follow this stranger instead of one of the monks. Jan felt that he was
disgraced. Someway he had failed. For a while he followed despondently,
then he tried to comfort himself as he trudged at the end of the rope.

"Bruno and mother will know what is the matter," he thought hopefully.
"I'll ask them as soon as I get home to-night."

He looked back wistfully several times to see if the kindly, grey-eyed
stranger might be following them, but he had taken the opposite trail
from the one Mr. Pixley was travelling. Jan did not mind the long tramp
which ended at a place where houses were scattered about. Here a
carriage and horses were brought, and Jan would have been much
interested in these strange things had he not been so worried. He felt
himself lifted into the carriage with Mr. Pixley; then, as it moved, Jan
was thrown against the fur coat and looked up in fright.

"You are going to a new land," Mr. Pixley said, smoothing the pup's
velvety ear.

The dog lifted one paw and laid it on the man's knee, the brown eyes
that looked up were dul