Father Benjamin spoke kindly to the frightened old man. "Be of good
cheer, Grandfather, for in a short time we will be at the Hospice. After
you have rested, go to the Chapel and give thanks to our good Saint
Bernard, who founded the Hospice so that travelers such as you might
live."
"I, too, shall give thanks to Saint Bernard," the girl declared
confidently.
"And I," the boy echoed.
Father Benjamin turned again to the frightened old man. "Can you fear
when mere children cannot? Let us go."
With Caesar beside him, Franz took his place at the rear. He turned his
head constantly from side to side, hoping for a break in the draperies
of snow that hid all save that which was immediately before him. If
there were such a rift, even for a second, he might see a familiar
boulder, cluster of boulders, or mountain peak that would tell him they
were on the path.
He had a growing fear that they were not, for who could find a path in a
storm such as this? The landscape changed beneath his very eyes. A
drift that had been was suddenly no longer when the wind blew it into
snow dust. A drift that had not been was present when the snow-laden
wind wearied of its burden and dropped it.
Franz placed a hand on Caesar's head and found in the massive dog the
comfort he never failed to discover there. He and Caesar had faced many
storms together, though none had been as terrible as this. But, as
Father Benjamin had said, it was just a snowstorm.
Suddenly, Caesar left Franz's side, bounded ahead, hurled himself on
Father Benjamin, seized the priest's habit in his great jaws, and pulled
him over backwards.
For a moment, Franz stood petrified, too astonished to even move. The
four travelers stared, unable at once to understand what had happened or
what they were staring at.
Franz recovered his wits and ran forward. He knelt beside Father
Benjamin and Caesar, who maintained a firm grip on the priest's robe,
and shouted, "I'm sorry, Father Benjamin! I do not know why Caesar would
do such a terrible thing!"
"Make him let me go!" Father Benjamin's voice was stern and indignant.
[Illustration: _Suddenly, Caesar left Franz's side, bounded ahead and
seized the priest's habit in his great jaws_]
"Let go, Caesar!" Franz commanded. "Let go, I say!"
Caesar closed his eyes, took a firmer grip and dragged Father Benjamin
six inches backwards through the snow. The angry priest turned to
grapple with him.
There was a soft hissing, as though a thousand snowflakes had fallen on
a hot stove all at the same time. A bridge of snow, upon which Father
Benjamin would have walked had he taken one more forward step, fell in
and revealed the yawning chasm across which it had formed.
Caesar released his grip on Father Benjamin's habit, sat down beside the
priest, and licked his hand with an apologetic tongue.
"He knew!" Father Benjamin gasped. "That is why he pulled me back!"