The tigress, enveloped in the folds of the boa-constrictor, never darted such a glance of impotent but profound and concentrated rage upon the serpent that held it powerless in its fatal clasp.
She expired with her features still distorted by that horrible expression of vindictive spite.
A few moments elapsed before the man was aware that his wife was dead—that he had murdered her!
He supported her mechanically, as it were; for he was dismayed and appalled by the savage aspect which her countenance had assumed—that countenance which was rendered the more hideous by the bleeding eye-ball crushed in its socket.
At length he perceived that she was no more; and, with a terrible oath, he let her head drop upon the floor.
For a minute he stood and contemplated the corpse:—a whirlwind was in his brain.
The voices of his children aroused him from his reverie.
"Father, what's the matter with mother?" asked the boy, in a timid and subdued tone.
"Mother's hurt herself," said Fanny: "poor mother!"
"Look at mother's eye, father," added the boy: "do look at it! I'm sure something dreadful is the matter."