“Surely I will. Well was I call’d Young Look-alive when a gay, fleeting boy. Simmy, my son, thou’rt sadly drunken. O youth, youth! Thou winebibber, hold the light steady, or I’ll tell thy mammy!”
“Oh, sir, I do mortally dread the devil an’ all his works!”
“Now, if ever! The devil,’ says he—an’ Master Tingcomb still livin’, an’ in his own house awaitin’ us!”
Be sure, his words were as good as a slap in the face to me. For I had counted the hearse to lead me straight to Master Tingcomb himself. “In his own house,” too! A fright seiz’d me for Delia. But first I must deal with these scoundrels, who already were dragging out the coffin.
“Steady there!” calls the minister. The coffin was more than halfway outside. I levell’d my pistol over the edge of the tool chest, and fetch’d a yell fit to wake a ghost—at the same time letting fly straight for the minister.
In the flash of the discharge, I saw him, half-turn’d, his eyes starting, and mouth agape. He clapp’d his hand to his shoulder. On top of his wild shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in the middle of which the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. “Satan—Satan!” bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his heels for dear life. At the same moment the horses took fright; and before I could scramble out, we were tearing madly away over the turf and into the darkness. I had made a sad mess of it.
It must have been a full minute before the hedge turn’d them, and gave me time to drop out at the back and run to their heads. Matt. Soames was after me, quick as thought, and very soon we mastered them, and gathering up the reins from between their legs, led them back. As luck would have it, the lantern had not been quench’d by the fall, but lay flaring, and so guided us. Also a curious bright radiance seem’d growing on the sky, for which I could not account. The three knaves were nowhere to be seen, but I heard their footsteps scampering in the distance, and Simmy still yelling “Satan!” I knew my bullet had hit the minister; but he had got away, and I never set eyes on any of the three again.
Leaving Matt to mind the horses, I caught up the lantern, and look’d about me. As well as could be seen, we were in a narrow meadow between two hills, whereof the black slopes rose high above us. Some paces to the right, my ear caught the noise of a stream running.
I turn’d the lantern on the coffin, which lay face downward, and with a gasp took in the game those precious rogues had been playing. For, with the fall of it, the boards (being but thin) were burst clean asunder; and on both sides had tumbled out silver cups, silver saltcellars, silver plates and dishes, that in the lantern’s rays sparkled prettily on the turf. The coffin, in short, was stuff’d with Delia’s silverware.
I had pick’d up a great flagon, and was turning it over to read the inscription, when Matt. Soames call’d to me, and pointed over the hill in front. Above it the whole sky was red and glowing.