And always, at their approach, he would get up and depart.

Nor did he go direct to the mound, on these pilgrimages; but by devious paths; as though trying to shake off possible pursuit.

No longer did he spend the nights, as from puppyhood, in his beloved "cave" under the piano in the music room.

On one pretext or another, he would manage to slip out of the house, during the evening.

Twice, in gray dawn, the Master found him crouched beside the mound, where, sleepless, he had lain all night.
The Mistress and the Master grew seriously troubled over their collie chum's continued grief.