Where is the fellow in the water?
What, ho, Uriel!" But as no sound reached him, he snatched a torch from one of the arquebussiers and held it to the river's brink.

But he could see neither hound nor man.
"Strange!" he cried.

"He cannot have escaped.

Uriel is more than a match for any man.

Secure the prisoner while I examine the stream." With this, he ran along the bank with great quickness, holding his torch far over the water, so as to reveal any thing floating within it, but nothing met his view until he came within a short distance of the mill, when he beheld a black object struggling in the current, and soon found that it was his dog making feeble efforts to gain the bank.
"Ah recreant! thou hast let him go," cried Demdike, furiously.
Seeing his master the animal redoubled its efforts, crept ashore, and fell at his feet, with a last effort to lick his hands.
Demdike held down the torch, and then perceived that the hound was quite dead.