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'He is not afraid that the carcase would be cold ?' added a third. 'The old man has covered his dry shoulders with his own cloak.'
'He is a prudent fellow, old father Matthew,' said a fourth, who was trying to bring the old musician to life; ‘why he carried two fiddles with him, so that if he broke one he should have another.'
When Matthew returned to himself by dint of the labours of the good folks about him, he attributed every thing to the cold, and took care not to say a single word of the infernal visions which had appeared to him.
But on entering his cottage, he carefully examined the instrument of which he had become possessed in so strange a manner. A thrill of horror was the result of this examination. The fiddle was nothing more than the bone of a dead man, wrought with exquisite skill; and he read upon its rich silver ornaments the name of an inhabitant of Hesdin, who passed there as a sorcerer and a wizard.
When the evening shades gathered, he repaired to the house of this ill-famed man:—
'Friend,' said he, with a low salutation, 'there is a fiddle which belongs to you, I believe. I have accidently found it, and thought I would bring it back to you.
His neighbour grew pale at these words,
