She kindled the smouldering embers on the hearth into a blaze, threw on some fresh wood, and then withdrew to mount to her chamber and make herself a little more presentable--having first roused a stout peasant lad, who served as hostler, and sent him to take the chariot into the court, where he was heard directly unharnessing the weary horse and leading him into the stable.
"We cannot leave poor Matamore's body in the chariot all night, like a dead deer brought home from the chase," said Blazius; "the dogs out there in the court might find it out.

Besides, he had been baptized, and his remains ought to be watched with and cared for, like any other good Christian's." So they brought in the sad burden tenderly, laid it on the long table, and covered it again carefully with the white linen cloth.

When the old woman returned, and saw this strange and terrible sight, she was frightened almost to death, and, throwing herself on her knees, began begging volubly for mercy--evidently taking the troupe of comedians for a band of assassins, and the dead man for their unfortunate victim.
It was with the greatest difficulty that Isabelle finally succeeded in calming and reassuring the poor, distracted, old creature, who was beside herself with terror, and made her listen to the story of poor Matamore's death.

When, at last, she fully understood the true state of the case, she went and fetched more candles, which she lighted and disposed symmetrically about the dead body, and kindly offered to sit up and watch it with Mme.

Leonarde--also to do all that was necessary and usual for it--adding that she was always sent for in the village when there was a death, to perform those last, sad offices.