had
decided to turn actor--a thing so revolting, as she knew, to his pride
as a gentleman. He was a hero in her eyes, and though she wished to
reproach him for his hasty action, which she would have prevented if
she could, she had not the heart to find fault with him for his
noble devotion to the common cause after all. Yet she would have
done anything, suffered everything herself, to have saved him this
humiliation; hers being one of those true, loyal hearts that forget
themselves in their love, and think only of the interests and happiness
of the being beloved. She walked on beside him until her strength was
exhausted, and then returned to her place in the chariot, giving him a
look so eloquent of love and admiration, as he carefully drew her
wraps about her, that his heart bounded with joy, and he felt that no
sacrifice could be too great which was made for her sweet sake.

In every direction around them, as far as the eye could reach, the
snow-covered country was utterly devoid of town, village, or hamlet; not
a sign of life was anywhere to be seen.

"A sorry prospect for our fine plan," said the pedant, after a searching
examination of their surroundings, "and I very much fear that
the plentiful store of provisions Herode promised us will not be
forthcoming. I cannot see the smoke of a single chimney, strain my eyes
as I will, nor the weather-cock on any village spire."

"Have a little patience, Blazius!" the tyrant replied. "Where people
live too much crowded together the air becomes vitiated, you know, and
it is very salubrious to have the villages situated a good distance
apart."

"What a healthy part of the country this must be then the inhabitants
need not to fear epidemics--for to begin with there are no inhabitants.
At this rate our Captain Fracasse will not have a chance very soon to
make his debut."

By this time it was nearly dark, the sky was overcast with heavy leaden
clouds, and only a faint lurid glow on the horizon in the west showed
where the sun had gone down. An icy wind, blowing full in their faces,
and the hard, frozen surface of the snow, made their progress both
difficult and painful. The poor old horse slipped at every step, though
Scapin was carefully leading him, and staggered along like a drunken
man, striking first against one shaft and then against the other,
growing perceptibly weaker at every turn of the wheels behind him.
Now and again he shook his head slowly up and down, and