ed
the tyrant, and his voice trembled a little; "that dog howls as if for a
death."

At this speech the two young women turned even paler than they had been
before, if that were possible, and made the sign of the cross devoutly,
while Isabelle murmured a prayer.

"We must go in search of him without a moment's delay," said Blazius,
"and take the lantern with us; it will as a guiding star to him if he
has wandered off from the road, as is very probable, with everything
covered with snow like this."

They accordingly lighted their horn lantern, and set off with all
possible speed--the tyrant, Blazius, and de Sigognac--whilst Scapin and
Leander remained with the three women in the chariot. The dog, meantime,
kept up his dismal howling without a moment's intermission as the three
men hastened towards him. The darkness and the newfallen snow, which had
completely obliterated all traces of footsteps, made the task of looking
for the missing actor a very difficult one, and after walking nearly a
mile without seeing a sign of him, they began to fear that their search
would prove fruitless. They kept calling, "Matamore! Matamore!" but
there was no reply, nothing to be heard but the howling of the large
black dog, at intervals now, or the scream of an owl, disturbed by the
light of the lantern. At last de Sigognac, with his penetrating vision,
thought he could make out a recumbent figure at the foot of a tree, a
little way off from the road, and they all pressed forward to the spot
he indicated.

It was indeed poor Matamore, sitting on the ground, with his back
against the tree, and his long legs, stretched out in front of him,
quite buried under the snow; he did not stir at the approach of his
comrades, or answer their joyful shout of recognition, and when Blazius,
alarmed at this strange apathy, hastened forward and threw the light of
the lantern upon his face, he had nearly let it fall from fright at what
it revealed. Poor Matamore was dead, stiff and stark, with wide-open,
sunken eyes staring out vaguely into the darkness, and his ghastly face
wearing that pinched, indescribable expression which the mortal puts on
when the spirit that dwelt within has fled. The three who had found him
thus were inexpressibly shocked, and stood for a moment speechless
and motionless, in the presence of death. The tyrant was the first to
recover himself, and hoping that some sign of life might yet remain he
stooped and took the cold hand i