The fearsome touch of death

A Tale of Stark, Unreasoning Terror
By ROBERT E. HOWARD
As long as midnight cloaks the earth
With shadows grim and stark,
God save us from the Judas kiss
Of a dead man in the dark.
Old Adam Farrel lay dead in the house wherein he had lived alone for the last twenty years. A silent, churlish recluse, in his life he had known no friends, and only two men had watched his passing.
Dr. Stein rose and glanced out the window into the gathering dusk.
You think you can spend the night here, then? he asked his companion.
This man, Falred by name, assented.
Yes, certainly. I guess it's up to me.
Rather a useless and primitive custom, sitting up with the dead, commented the doctor, preparing to depart, but I suppose in common decency we will have to bow to precedence. Maybe I can find some one who'll come over here and help you with your vigil.