One by one Inez turned the motionless forms, still the face she sought was not to be found.

She had almost concluded her search, when her eye fell on a prostrate form, closely wrapt in a long black cloak; she knelt and gazed into the upturned face, and a low cry of bitter anguish welled up and passed her colorless lips.

Gently she lifted the cloak, clasped by one icy hand: the ball had pierced his side, and entered the heart.

So instantaneous had been his death that not a feature was convulsed.

The dark clustering hair was borne back from the broad white brow, the eyes closed as in deep sleep, the finely-cut lips just parted.