re fairly cold, and even while Guly bent
to take a last adieu of the still form before him, the cartman, a burly
negro, was loudly vociferating for "the body," declaring it would be
dark before ever he could get his "load dumped." The coffin was placed
upon the top of a number of others, and Guly, too overcome by the grief
and anxiety he had experienced, to be able to follow it to the cemetery,
stood in the door-way, watching the dismal cart, as it rattled along,
bearing to its last resting-place, all that remained of the once proud
and happy Arthur.

The negro sat upon his pile of corpses, and jogged along over the uneven
streets, whistling as he went! It was late when he reached the
graveyard, and the stars were beginning to peep out in the sky. It so
happened that his was the only cart at that time depositing in the
cemetery, and, accustomed as he was to such things, the man's hand
trembled nervously as he moved about among the tall monuments, and at
last stopped in an open space to deposit his load. He ceased whistling
as he drew the bolt from his cart box and slid the contents out upon the
ground. As they struck, there came a crash; a sound which fell fearfully
upon the ear in that silent place, and the cartman righted the box
hurriedly, and hastened round to see what was the matter. While peering
into the dusky light, he felt a cold hand grasp him about the waist, and
suddenly turning his head, saw that the last coffin he had taken, from
being placed high, had split in its fall and burst open; and, oh,
horror! its occupant was _creeping forth_ with its ghastly face peering
up into his! With a mad yell the negro bounded to his cart. He leaped
wildly in, but the cold hand clung close, and the sheeted figure
sustained itself behind him. With shrieks of terror, which echoed
fearfully in and out among the tombs, the man plied the lash to his
affrighted horse, and they dashed away through the dim streets at a mad
pace, the negro, with eyes starting from their sockets, and mouth wide
open from fear, ever and anon turning his head, but always meeting that
ghastly face close to his, and seeing the grave-clothes floating
backward in the wind! Then the whip fell more heavily on the poor horse,
and the screams of mortal fear rang out more startlingly clear; but the
fearful scourge had rendered the streets almost deserted, and the
ghostly form still clung to the affrighted negro, sometimes sinking as
if from exhaustion, upon i