It was the faithful Leo.
He lay couchant on the stone floor at the foot of the bier, almost as silent as a dog of marble; the only sign of animation he gave being a deep sigh which broke from his honest heart now and then.

I went to him and softly patted his shaggy coat.

He looked up at me with big brown eyes full of tears, licked my hand meekly, and again laid his head down upon his two fore-paws with a resignation that was most pathetic.
The dawn began to peer faintly through the chapel windows--the dawn of a misty, chilly morning.

The storm of the past night had left a sting in the air, and the rain still fell, though gently.

The wind had almost entirely sunk into silence.