s. The pews were mouldering away; the canopy over the
pulpit had half fallen, and rested its edge on the book-board; the
great galleries had in parts tumbled into the body of the church, in
other parts they hung sloping from the walls. The centre of the floor
had fallen in, and there was a great, descending slope of earth,
soft-looking, mixed with bits of broken and decayed wood, from the pews
above and the coffins below. I stood gazing down in horror unutterable.
How far the gulf went I could not see. I was fascinated by its slow
depth, and the thought of its possible contents--when suddenly I knew
rather than perceived that something was moving in its darkness: it was
something dead--something yellow-white. It came nearer; it was slowly
climbing; like one dead and stiff it was labouring up the slope. I
could neither cry out nor move. It was about three yards below me, when
it raised its head: it was my uncle, dead, and dressed for the grave.
He beckoned me--and I knew I must go; I had to go, nor once thought of
resisting. My heart became like lead, but immediately I began the
descent. My feet sank in the mould of the ancient dead, soft as if
thousands of graveyard moles were for ever burrowing in it, as down and
down I went, settling and sliding with the black plane. Then I began to
see the sides and ends of coffins in the walls of the gulf; and the
walls came closer and closer as I descended, until they scarcely left
me room to get through. I comforted myself with the thought that those
in these coffins had long been dead, and must by this time be at rest,
nor was there any danger of seeing mouldy hands come out to seize me.
At last I saw that my uncle had stopped, and I stood still, a few yards
above him, more composed than I can understand."

"The wonder is we are so believing, yet not more terrified, in our
dreams," said Donal.

"He began to heave and pull at a coffin that seemed to stop the way.
Just as he got it dragged on one side, I saw on the bright silver
handle of it the Morven crest. The same instant the lid rose, and my
father came out of the coffin, looking alive and bright; my uncle stood
beside him like a corpse beside a soul. 'What do you want with my
child?' he said; and my uncle cowered before him. He took my hand and
said, 'Come with me, my child.' And I went with him--oh, so gladly! My
fear was gone, and so was my uncle. He led me up the way we had come
down, but when we came out of the hole, ins