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.

"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 softly and gently in
French. 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.

She tried to describe the scene to her mother, afterward.

"Oh, it was so pitiful!" she exclaimed. "It neahly broke my heart. Then he
called me to him and said that because I was like his little Christine, he
knew that I would be good to Hero, and he asked me to take him back to
America with me. I promised that I would. Then he put Hero's paw in my
hand, and said, 'Hero, I give thee to thy little mistress. Protect and
guard her always, as she will love and care for thee.' It was awfully
solemn, almost like some kind of blessing.

"Then he lay back on the pillows as if he was too tiahed to say anothah
word. I tried to thank him, but I was so surprised and glad that Hero was
mine, and yet so sorry to say good-bye to the Majah, that the right words
wouldn't come. I just began to cry again. But I am suah the Majah
undahstood. He patted my hand and smoothed my hair and said things in
French that sounded as if he was tryin' to comfort me. Aftah awhile I
remembahed that we had been there a long time, and ought to go, so I
kissed him good-bye, and Hero and I went out, leavin' the doah open as he
told us. He watched us all the way down the hall. When I turned at the
stairway to look back, he was still watchin'. He smiled and waved his
hand, but the way he smiled made me feel worse than evah, it was so sad."

Mr. Sherman went with the Major next morning, when he was taken to Zuerich.
Lloyd was asleep when they left the inn, so the last remembrance she had
of the Major was the way he looked as he lay on his couch