.
You ought to have put in screws, you know."

"Yes, but we hadn't got any; we had used the last screws we had for the
hinge of a door. I'm going to buy some to put in at St. Hennon's.
Good-day."

As they spoke, Saul had been going to his cart, and Trenholme following,
with authoritative displeasure in his mien.

"It's exceedingly careless--upon my word. Come back and nail it up
firmer," cried he.

But Saul drove off.

The young station-master went back to the store-room. He looked at the
box for a moment, with annoyance still in his mind. The air that he had
would have sat well upon a man with servants under him, but was somewhat
futile in the keeper of a desolate railway-station. He had not been able
to command the man, and he certainly could not command the coffin to
nail itself more firmly together. After all, his tea waited. Somewhat
sullenly he barred the double door on the inside, and went back to his
own room and his evening meal.

The room was filled with the steam of the boiling tea as he poured it
out, and the smoke of the ham gravy. With the strength of youth and
health he thrust aside the annoyance of his official position from his
present mind, and set himself to his supper with considerable
satisfaction.

He had not, however, eaten a single morsel before he heard a sound in
the next room which caused him to sit erect and almost rigid, forgetting
his food. He had been so pre-occupied a minute before with the
carelessness of those who constructed the coffin that he had left the
inner door between the two rooms ajar. It was through this that the
sound came, and it seemed to his quickened sense to proceed from the
corner in which the pinewood box reposed, but he hastily went over all
the contents of the room to think if any of them could be falling or
shifting among themselves. The sound still continued; it seemed as if
something was being gently worked to and fro, as in a soft socket. His
imagination was not very quick to represent impossible dangers, nor had
he in him more cowardice than dwells in most brave men. He did not allow
himself to conclude that he heard the coffin-lid being opened from the
inside. He took his lamp and went to see what was wrong.

The sound ceased as he moved. When the light of the lamp was in the next
room all was perfectly silent. For almost half a minute he stood still,
shading his eyes from the lamp, while, with every disagreeable sensation
crowding upon him, he obse