The coward has poisoned your faithful guardian like the wretched thief, the miserable house-breaker, that he is.'-- Mariora's hut was lighted by the flame that flickered on the hearth.

A bedstead of linden-wood covered with goat-skins, a table of slate and a few three-legged chairs were all the furniture.

There was also a nicely carved and painted little cradle in which lay the little child, sleeping, with his plump little hands drawn up behind his head, like an angel.

In the extreme corner of the room the faithful beast lay all of a heap on a lair of soft moss,--at the last gasp.

He groaned and shivered continually like one in a fever, and raised his failing eyes with such an eloquent appeal to his mistress, as if he would have spoken to her.
Sometimes he pricked his ears as if he were listening and snuffed joyously.