floods, that Master Ratsey had put a fire
in the brazier which stood at the back, but was not commonly lighted till
the winter had fairly begun. We boys sat as close to the brazier as we
could, for the wet cold struck up from the flags, and besides that, we
were so far from the clergyman, and so well screened by the oak backs,
that we could bake an apple or roast a chestnut without much fear of
being caught. But that morning there was something else to take off our
thoughts; for before the service was well begun, we became aware of a
strange noise under the church. The first time it came was just as Mr.
Glennie was finishing 'Dearly Beloved', and we heard it again before the
second lesson. It was not a loud noise, but rather like that which a boat
makes jostling against another at sea, only there was something deeper
and more hollow about it. We boys looked at each other, for we knew what
was under the church, and that the sound could only come from the Mohune
Vault. No one at Moonfleet had ever seen the inside of that vault; but
Ratsey was told by his father, who was clerk before him, that it underlay
half the chancel, and that there were more than a score of Mohunes lying
there. It had not been opened for over forty years, since Gerald Mohune,
who burst a blood-vessel drinking at Weymouth races, was buried there;
but there was a tale that one Sunday afternoon, many years back, there
had come from the vault so horrible and unearthly a cry, that parson and
people got up and fled from the church, and would not worship there for
weeks afterwards.

We thought of these stories, and huddled up closer to the brazier, being
frightened at the noise, and uncertain whether we should not turn tail
and run from the church. For it was certain that something was moving in
the Mohune vault, to which there was no entrance except by a ringed stone
in the chancel floor, that had not been lifted for forty years.

However, we thought better of it, and did not budge, though I could see
when standing up and looking over the tops of the seats that others
beside ourselves were ill at ease; for Granny Tucker gave such starts
when she heard the sounds, that twice her spectacles fell off her nose
into her lap, and Master Ratsey seemed to be trying to mask the one noise
by making another himself, whether by shuffling with his feet or by
thumping down his prayer-book. But the thing that most surprised me was
that even Elzevir Block, who cared, men