The cordiality of their welcome and the deliciously warm atmosphere in which they found themselves had combined to raise the spirits of the comedians—colour returned to pale faces, light to heavy eyes, and smiles to anxious lips—their gaiety was in proportion to the misery and peril from which they had just happily escaped, their hardships were all forgotten, and they gave themselves up entirely to the enjoyment of the hour. Their host had called up his servants, who bustled about, setting the table and making other preparations for supper, to the undisguised delight of Blazius, who said triumphantly to the tyrant, “You see now, Hérode, and must acknowledge, that my predictions, inspired by the little glimmer of light we saw from afar, are completely verified—they have all come literally true. Fragrant puffs are issuing even now from the mammoth _pot-au-feu_ there over the fire, and we shall presently wash down its savoury contents with draughts of generous wine, which I see already awaiting us on the table yonder. It is warm and bright and cosy in this room, and we appreciate and enjoy it all doubly, after the darkness and the cold and the danger from which we have escaped into the grateful shelter of this hospitable roof; and to crown the whole, our host is the grand, illustrious, incomparable Bellombre—flower and cream of all comedians, past, present and future, and best of good fellows.” “Our happiness would be complete if only poor Matamore were here,” said Isabelle with a sigh. “Pray what has happened to him?” asked Bellombre, who knew him by reputation. The tyrant told him the tragic story of the snow-storm, and its fatal consequences. “But for this thrice-blessed meeting with my old and faithful friend here,” Blazius added, “the same fate would probably have overtaken us ere morning—we should all have been found, frozen stiff and stark, by the next party of travellers on the post road.” “That would have been a pity indeed,” Bellombre rejoined, and glancing admiringly at Isabelle and Serafina, added gallantly, “but surely these young goddesses would have melted the snow, and thawed the ice, with the fire I see shining in their sparkling eyes.” “You attribute too much power to our eyes,” Serafina made answer; “they could not even have made any impression upon a heart, in the thick, impenetrable darkness that enveloped us; the tears that the icy cold forced from them would have extinguished the flames of the most ardent love.” While they sat at supper, Blazius told their host of the sad condition of their affairs, at which he seemed no way surprised.