“Now what yo’ gwine do wid him, honey?” asked Mammy.

“I’d like to put him to sleep on the piazza, but I’m afraid I can’t,” answered Peggy, smiling sadly, for the loss of the Empress had struck deeply.

“No, yo’ suah cyant do dat,” was Mammy’s reply.  “You’ll be bleeged fer ter put him yonder in de paddock.”

“He will be so lonesome,” said Peggy doubtfully.  Just then the great wolfhound came bounding up.  She thrust her nose into her mistress’ hand and gave a low bark of delight.  She was almost as tall as the colt, and seemed to understand his needs.  She then turned to give a greeting lick upon the colt’s nose.  He jerked away, as though resenting the lady’s familiarity, but nickered softly.  He had known Tzaritza from the first moment he became aware of things terrestrial and they had often gamboled together when the Empress was disinclined for a frolic.  Peggy’s eyes brightened.

“Tzaritza, attention!”

The splendid hound raised her head to look into her young mistress’ eyes with keen intelligence.

“Come,” and followed by the hound and colt Peggy hurried back to the stables.  They had brought the Empress down from the pasture and laid her upon the soft turf of the large circular grass-plot in front of the main building.  The men were now digging her grave.

“Tzaritza, scent,” commanded Peggy, stroking the Empress’ neck.

The hound made long, deep sniffs at the still form.

“Come.”  Peggy then laid her hand upon the little colt’s neck.  The scent was the same.  Tzaritza understood.

“Guard,” said Peggy.

“Woof-woof,” answered Tzaritza deep down in her throat.

Peggy then led the way to the Empress’ paddock.  Roy capered through the gate; Tzaritza, with her newly-assumed responsibility upon her, entered with dignity.  From that hour she scarcely left her charge, lying beside him when he rested in the shade of the great beeches, nestling close in the little stable at night, following him wherever he chose to go during his liberty hours of the day, for thenceforth he was rarely confined to the paddock.

Before the Empress was laid away Bud returned with the nursing bottle.  The rubber nipples were thrust into the Empress’ mouth and thus getting the mother scent all else was very simple.  Roy tugged away at his bottle like a well-conducted, well-conditioned baby, Tzaritza watching with keen intelligent eyes.  She soon knew the feeding hours as well as Peggy or Mammy, and promptly to the minute led her charge to Mammy’s door.  If Mammy happened to be elsewhere she sought Cynthia, and so had the interest grown that there was not a man, woman or child upon the place who would not have dropped anything in order to minister to the needs of Tzaritza’s charge.

And so passed the early springtide, Roy waxing fat and strong, Tzaritza never relaxing her care, though at first it was a sore trial to her to remain behind with her foster-son while her beloved mistress galloped away upon Shashai.  But that word “Guard” was sacred.