He sniffed excitedly at his master's slipper, which Lloyd held out to him.
Then, as she motioned toward the mountain, and gave the command in French that the Major had taught her, he bounded out into the gloaming, with several quick short barks, and darted up the narrow street that led to the mountain road.
Maybe if he had not been with his master that way, the day before, he might not have known what path to take.

The heavy rain had washed away all trails, so he could not trace him by the sense of smell; but remembering the path which they had travelled together the previous day, he instinctively started up that.
The group in the doorway of the inn watched him as long as they could see the white line of his silvery ruff gleam through the dusk, and then, going back to the parlour, sat down to wait for his return.

To most of them it was a matter of only passing interest.

They were curious to know how much the dog's training would benefit his master, under the circumstances, if he should be lost.

But to the Little Colonel it seemed a matter of life and death.