cut down... he fleeth as it were a
shadow.... Yet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and
merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal
death...."

"Easy there... is she down?" piped the claimant to the stove; and the
young man called over his shoulder: "Lift the light there, can't you?"

There was a pause, during which the light floated uncertainly over the
open grave. Someone bent over and pulled out Mr. Miles's coat----("No,
no--leave the handkerchief," he interposed)--and then Liff Hyatt, coming
forward with a spade, began to shovel in the earth.

"Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of His great mercy to take
unto Himself the soul of our dear sister here departed, we therefore
commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to
dust..." Liff's gaunt shoulders rose and bent in the lantern light as he
dashed the clods of earth into the grave. "God--it's froze a'ready,"
he muttered, spitting into his palm and passing his ragged shirt-sleeve
across his perspiring face.

"Through our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body that it
may be like unto His glorious body, according to the mighty working,
whereby He is able to subdue all things unto Himself..." The last
spadeful of earth fell on the vile body of Mary Hyatt, and Liff rested
on his spade, his shoulder blades still heaving with the effort.

"Lord, have mercy upon us, Christ have mercy upon us, Lord have mercy
upon us..."

Mr. Miles took the lantern from the old woman's hand and swept its light
across the circle of bleared faces. "Now kneel down, all of you," he
commanded, in a voice of authority that Charity had never heard.
She knelt down at the edge of the grave, and the others, stiffly and
hesitatingly, got to their knees beside her. Mr. Miles knelt, too. "And
now pray with me--you know this prayer," he said, and he began: "Our
Father which art in Heaven..." One or two of the women falteringly took
the words up, and when he ended, the lank-haired man flung himself on
the neck of the tall youth. "It was this way," he said. "I tole her the
night before, I says to her..." The reminiscence ended in a sob.

Mr. Miles had been getting into his coat again. He came up to Charity,
who had remained passively kneeling by the rough mound of earth.

"My child, you must come. It's very late."

She lifted her eyes to his face: he seemed to speak out of another
world.

"I ain't coming: I'm going