CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE VAULT.
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power as yet upon thy beauty;
Thou art not conquered! Beauty’s ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And Death’s pale flag is not advanced there.
—Shakspere.
A silent drive of about half an hour’s length brought them to the deep and sheltered forest dell in which St. John’s Church stood. Surrounding the dell was the boundless forest, whose nearer trees stood up, stark and black, in strong contrast with the snow. Within the circle of these grim trees gleamed a single ray of red light, shooting in a line of crimson across the graveyard. This came from the window of the old sexton’s log house, that stood just within the shelter of the forest. Taking this ghostly light as their guide, and picking their way cautiously and reverently among the tombs, they approached the lone dwelling. As they drew near they saw the light flitting backward and forward in the house, and then perceived an old negro with a saddled mule at the gate.
Before Dr. Hardcastle could speak to ask a question the door of the house was opened, and the old sexton came forth, clad in a shaggy overcoat, fox-cap, and fur gloves, and carrying a lantern in his hand. Seeing two strangers, he made an exclamation of surly surprise, and asked their business. Dr. Hardcastle drew him apart, explained to him who they were, and what they wanted. The old man then changed his tone, invited them into his house, and, lantern in hand, slowly led the way. With plain kindness, he took the hand of Elsie, and led her to a rude armchair in the chimney corner, telling her that, being about to go away for the night, he had put out the fire, but that he would soon kindle it up again to warm her. Then going to an obscure corner of the room, he brought forth a quantity of oily pine knots, and lighting one at the candle in the lantern, and placing it on the hearth and piling other around it, and heaping more upon them, in an instant he had a very hot fire. Then he turned to Dr. Hardcastle, begging him to be seated, and explained that he had just been summoned away to Green Mills to see his brother, who was dangerously ill; that he had therefore to depart on the instant, lest he should not see his brother alive; that if Dr. Hardcastle would dispense with his services, and take the keys of the church and let himself in, he would be very much obliged; farther, that if Dr. Hardcastle should choose not to return to Huttontown in the severe cold, this poor cottage was at his service, with all it contained; only when the doctor left, would he please to put out the fire, and lock up everything, both at the church and at the cottage, securely, and put the bunch of keys under the stone by the doorstep. Dr. Hardcastle thanked him, accepted the keys, promised security to all things intrusted to his care, and even hastened to dismiss the old man. When the sexton and the negro had departed, Magnus turned to Elsie, who had sat all this time in the armchair by the chimney corner, with her face covered by the flap of her cloak, and whispered:
“Elsie, my dear, dear girl, pause, think; do not insist upon going into the vault!”