That evening Jan was very happy as he stretched before the fireplace at the captain’s feet.  He did not sleep, for his eyes were fixed on the old man’s face, and when the poundmaster reached down to touch Jan’s head, the dog’s tail swished and thumped.  Then Jan rose to his feet and laid his head on the captain’s knee, just as he used to do in the other days.

The monks talked very earnestly with the captain’s daughter and her husband, and at last they all sat down together, smiling at Jan.  He did not understand what they were saying but he knew they were very happy, and he was happy with them.

What they had talked about was their plan for the dog.  He was now past eight years old and in a short time would not be able to go out on the trail.  Prince Jan had done his part in the work of the St. Bernards with honor to himself and to them, and now that he was growing old, the monks felt that he was entitled to spend his last years in comfort and happiness with his old friend, Captain Smith.

So, the next morning Jan was brought to the entrance of the Hospice, and there, as before, he saw Captain Smith on the mule.  The captain’s daughter and her husband were mounted on the other mules, and the guide had started along the trail.

Jan looked at the monks who were grouped on the stone steps, then he looked at the captain.  The mules moved slowly behind the guide.  Prince Jan gave a pitiful little whimper as he saw them go.  Then he heard the voice of the monk who now had charge of the kennels.

“Go on, Jan!”

The dog took a few steps and stopped.  The monks were smiling and pointing toward the trail that led to Martigny.  He turned and watched those who were riding down that trail.  They reached the gap and paused.

Jan stood with trembling body, his eyes filled with longing and grief.  Then clear and strong he heard the voice he loved.

“Come on, Jan!  We’re going home now!”

“Woof!  Woof!” the answer woke the echoes sleeping in the hearts of the mountains, the dogs of the Hospice took up the call of their kin, and the big dog dashed swiftly along the trail until he reached the little group.

Leaping up, he licked the poundmaster’s hand.  Then with head erect, Prince Jan, for the last time, travelled the trail of his ancestors.  He did not know where he was going, but it made no difference to him.  His master was looking down at him and smiling.

THE END