us seats,
and Bob Martin went out to lend a hand. Then came the shuffling of feet,
and the sound of hard-tugging respiration, and the suppressed energetic
mutual directions of the undertaker's men, who supported the ponderous
coffin. How much heavier, it always seems to me, that sort of load than
any other of the same size!

A great oak shell: the lid was outside in the porch, Mr. Tressels was
unwilling to screw it down, having heard that the entrance to the vault
was so narrow, and apprehending it might be necessary to take the coffin
out. So it lay its length with a dull weight on the two forms. The lead
coffin inside, with its dusty black velvet, was plainly much older.
There was a plate on it with two bold capitals, and a full stop after
each, thus;--

R. D. obiit May 11th, A.D. 1746. aetat 38.

And above this plain, oval plate was a little bit of an ornament no
bigger than a sixpence. John Tracy took it for a star, Bob Martin said
he knew it to be a Freemason's order, and Mr. Tressels, who almost
overlooked it, thought it was nothing better than a fourpenny cherub.
But Mr. Irons, the clerk, knew that it was a coronet; and when he heard
the other theories thrown out, being a man of few words he let them have
it their own way, and with his thin lips closed, with their changeless
and unpleasant character of an imperfect smile, he coldly kept this
little bit of knowledge to himself.

Earth to earth (rumble), dust to dust (tumble), ashes to ashes (rattle).

And now the coffin must go out again, and down to its final abode.

The flag that closed the entrance of the vault had been removed. But
the descent of Avernus was not facile, the steps being steep and broken,
and the roof so low. Young Mervyn had gone down the steps to see it duly
placed; a murky, fiery light; came up, against which the descending
figures looked black and cyclopean.

Dr. Walsingham offered his brother-clergyman his hospitalities; but
somehow that cleric preferred returning to town for his supper and his
bed. Mervyn also excused himself. It was late, and he meant to stay that
night at the Phoenix, and to-morrow designed to make his compliments
in person to Dr. Walsingham. So the bilious clergyman from town climbed
into the vehicle in which he had come, and the undertaker and his troop
got into the hearse and the mourning coach and drove off demurely
through the town; but once a hundred yards or so beyond the turnpike, at
such a pace that