One moonlight night when all was still, she took her little bundle and went softly down stairs.  Noiselessly she trod across the kitchen floor, pulled the bolt, lifted the latch, and stood outside.  For an instant she paused.  A rush of feelings came over her, a feeling of regret, for it was hard even for her to break away from familiar scenes, and leave the roof that had sheltered her; but it would not do to linger long, for Trot might bark and arouse her father.  Then she could not bear the thought that she should never see the faithful old dog again; and almost decided to go to him, but the thought had scarcely entered her mind ere her old companion was at her side.  His keen sense of hearing had caught the sound of her movements, though to her they had seemed noiseless, and he had come from his kennel and stood at her side, looking up in her face as though he knew all her plans.

Her courage almost forsook her as he stood there, wagging his tail and eyeing her so closely.  She feared that he would follow her, and thought she must go back to her room and make a new start; but now she was out of the house, and, perhaps she could not escape another time without disturbing her parents.  This thought nerved her to carry out her resolve, and she walked rapidly away.  One look at the old house, as her step was on the hill which would soon hide it from her view.  One more look at old Trot, then she waved her hand for him to go back, and swiftly walked as though borne by some unseen power.  The grey light of morning touched the eastern hills just as she lost sight of her native village.

New scenes were before her, and from them she gathered fresh inspiration.  The houses scattered along the roadside, from which persons were just coming forth to labor, gave her new feelings and enlivened her way, until at length something like fear that she might be recognized and sent back came upon her; but her fears were groundless, and she passed on and soon came to a deep, wooded road, closely hedged on either side by tall trees, whose spreading branches seemed to her like protecting arms.  There she could walk slower, and breathe more free, and for the first time for many days her mind relaxed its tension.

She was plodding along, musing upon the past and trying to discern some outline of her future, when the sound of steps following her caused the blood to leap to her face.  Looking around she beheld Trot, and ordered him back; but words were of no avail; he had scented her footsteps thus far, and seemed determined to follow her to her journey’s end.

“Poor fellow,” she said, patting his head, “I would not send you back if I had a home for you,” and she tried again to induce him to return, but he only gave a sigh, or sort of moan, as though imploring her to keep him with her.

She could no more bid him depart.  Was he not her only friend, and did he not love her as none other did?  So she patted him again and said,—­