Several lonely days followed for the Little Colonel.  Either her father or mother was constantly with the Major, sometimes both.

It greatly worried the old man that he should be the cause of disarranging their plans and delaying their journey.  He urged them to go on and leave him, but they would not consent.  Sometimes the Little Colonel slipped into the room with a bunch of Alpine roses or a cluster of edelweiss that she had bought from some peasant.  Sometimes she sat beside him for a few minutes, but most of her time was spent with Hero, wandering up and down beside the lake, feeding the swans or watching the little steamboats come and go.

One evening, just at sunset, the Major sent for her.  “I go to Zuerich in the morning,” he said, holding out his hand as she came into the room.  “I wanted to say good-bye while I have the time and strength.  We expect to leave very early to-morrow, probably before you are awake.”

His couch was drawn up by the window through which the shimmering lake shone in the sunset like rosy mother-of-pearl.  Far up the mountain sounded the faint tinkling of goat-bells, and the clear, sweet yodelling of a peasant, on his homeward way.  At intervals, the deep tolling of the bell of St. Oswald floated out across the water.

“When the snow falls,” he said, after a long pause, “I shall be far away from here.  They tell me that at the hospital where I am going, I shall find a cure.  But I know.”  He pointed to an hour-glass on the table beside him.  “See! the sand has nearly run its course.  The hour will soon be done.  It is so with me.  I have felt it for a long time.”

Lloyd looked up, startled.  He went on slowly.

“I cannot take Hero with me to the hospital, so I shall leave him behind with some one who will care for him and love him, perhaps even better than I have done.”  He held out his hand to the dog.

“Come, Hero, my dear old comrade, come bid thy master farewell.”  Fumbling under his pillow as he spoke, he took out a small leather case, and, opening it, held up a medal.  It was the medal that had been given him for bravery on the field of battle.

[Illustration:  “HE FASTENED THE MEDAL TO HERO’S COLLAR”]

“It is my one treasure!” murmured the old soldier, turning it fondly, as it lay in his palm.  “I have no family to whom I can leave it as an heirloom, but thou hast twice earned the right to wear it.  I have no fear but that thou wilt always be true to the Red Cross and thy name of Hero, so thou shalt wear thy country’s medal to thy grave.”

He fastened the medal to Hero’s collar, then, with the dog’s great head pressed fondly against him, he began talking to him in the speech Lloyd could not understand, but the sight of the gray-haired old soldier taking his last leave of his faithful friend brought the tears to her eyes.

Then he called her to him and said that because she was like his little Christine, he knew that she would be good to Hero, and he asked her to take him back to America with her.  She promised that she would.  Then he put Hero’s paw in her hand, and said, “Hero, I give thee to thy little mistress.  Protect and guard her always, as she will love and care for thee.”