time. After this, the dog made a sign for the boy to
get upon his back. It was some time before the boy could understand what
the sign meant. But it was repeated again and again, and at last the
child mounted the back of the kind animal, who carried him safely to the
convent."

Here is a capital story about a bloodhound, taken from the excellent
book by Mr. Bingley, to which I have before alluded. Aubri de Mondidier,
a gentleman of family and fortune, traveling alone through the Forest of
Bondy, in France, was murdered, and buried under a tree. His dog, a
bloodhound, would not quit his master's grave for several days; till at
length, compelled by hunger, he proceeded to the house of an intimate
friend of the unfortunate Aubri at Paris, and, by his melancholy
howling, seemed desirous of expressing the loss they had both sustained.
He repeated his cries, ran to the door, looked back to see if any one
followed him, returned to his master's friend, pulled him by the
sleeve, and with dumb eloquence, entreated him to go with him. The
singularity of all these actions of the dog, added to the circumstance
of his coming there without his master, whose faithful companion he had
always been, prompted the company to follow the animal. He conducted
them to the foot of a tree, where he renewed his howling, scratching the
earth with his feet, and significantly entreating them to search the
particular spot. Accordingly, on digging, the body of the unhappy Aubri
was found.

[Illustration: THE BLOODHOUND]

Some time after, the dog accidentally met the assassin, who is styled,
by all the historians who relate the story, the Chevalier Macaire, when,
instantly seizing him by the throat, he was with great difficulty
compelled to quit his victim. In short, whenever the dog saw the
chevalier, he continued to pursue and attack him with equal fury. Such
obstinate violence, confined only to Macaire, appeared very
extraordinary, especially to those who at once recalled the dog's
remarkable attachment to his master, and several instances in which
Macaire's envy and hatred to Aubri de Mondidier had been conspicuous.

Additional circumstances increased suspicion, and at length the affair
reached the royal ear. The king accordingly sent for the dog, which
appeared extremely gentle, till he perceived Macaire in the midst of
several noblemen, when he ran fiercely toward him, growling at and
attacking him, as usual. Struck with such a combination of