exaggerated the prominence of the chin and larynx.  But the eyelids were closed without contraction, and the sockets much less hollow than one could have expected; the mouth was not at all distorted, like the mouth of a corpse; the skin was slightly wrinkled, but had not changed color,—­it had only become a little more transparent, showing after a fashion the color of the tendons, the fat, and the muscles, wherever it rested directly upon them.  It also had a rosy tint which is not ordinarily seen in embalmed corpses.  Dr. Martout explained this anomaly by saying that if the colonel had actually been dried alive, the globules of the blood were not decomposed, but simply collected in the capillary vessels of the skin and subjacent tissues, where they still preserved their proper color, and could be seen more easily than otherwise on account of the semi-transparency of the skin.

The uniform had become much too large, as may be readily understood, though it did not seem at a casual glance that the members had become deformed.  The hands were dry and angular, but the nails, although a little bent inward toward the root, had preserved all their freshness.  The only very noticeable change was the excessive depression of the abdominal walls, which seemed crowded downward to the posterior side; at the right, a slight elevation indicated the place of the liver.  A tap of the finger on the various parts of the body produced a sound like that from dry leather.  While Leon was pointing out these details to his audience and doing the honors of his mummy, he awkwardly broke off the lower part of the right ear, and a little piece of the colonel remained in his hand.  This trifling accident might have passed unnoticed had not Clementine, who followed with visible emotion all the movements of her lover, dropped her candle and uttered a cry of affright.  All gathered around her.  Leon took her in his arms and carried her to a chair.  M. Renault ran after salts.  She was as pale as death, and seemed on the point of fainting.  She soon recovered, however, and reassured them all by a charming smile.

“Pardon me,” she said, “for such a ridiculous exhibition of terror; but what Monsieur Leon was saying to us—­and then—­that figure which seemed sleeping—­it appeared to me that the poor man was going to open his mouth and cry out, when he was injured.”

Leon hastened to close the walnut box, while M. Martout picked up the piece of ear and put it in his pocket.  But Clementine, while continuing to smile and make apologies, was overcome by a fresh access of emotion and melted into tears.  The engineer threw himself at her feet, poured forth excuses and tender phrases, and did all he could to console her inexplicable grief.

Clementine dried her eyes, looked prettier than ever, and sighed fit to break her heart, without knowing why.

“Beast that I am!” muttered Leon, tearing his hair.  “On the day when I see her again after three years’ absence, I can think of nothing more soul-inspiring than showing her mummies!” He launched a kick at the triple coffin of the colonel, saying, “I wish the devil had the confounded colonel!”