"That won't do, Grindley," replied Moreton, "the parson is with the enemy; and, besides, I must not let any body know that I have seen the register and the coffins till I have every thing prepared to upset their roguery. You would not have me lose my own, would you, old boy? Then as to your doing it for nothing, if you will swear not to tell that I have seen the things at all, till I am ready and give you leave, you shall have a ten-pound note."
It is a strange and terrible thing, that the value of that which has no value except as it affects us in this world and this life, increases enormously in our eyes as we are leaving it. The sexton had always been more or less a covetous man, as Captain Moreton well knew; but the passion had increased upon him with years, and the bait of the ten-pound note was not to be resisted. He took up the lantern, he got out of the grave, and looked carefully round. It was late at night--all was quiet--nothing seemed stirring; and approaching close to Moreton's side, he said in a whisper,
"No one knows that you were coming here, eh, captain?"
"Nobody in the world," replied the other, "I called at your house an hour ago, and the girl told me you were down here, but I said I would call on you again to-morrow."
"And you only want to look at the coffins and the book?" continued the sexton.
"Nothing else in the world," said Moreton, in an easy tone; "perhaps I may take a memorandum in my pocket-book, that's all."
"Well, then, give us the note and come along," replied the sexton, "there can be no harm in that."
Moreton slipped something into his hand, and they moved towards a little door in the side of the church, opposite to that on which stood the cottage of Stephen Gimlet. Here the sexton drew a large bunch of keys out of his pocket and opened the door, holding up the lantern to let his companion see the way in.
Moreton whistled a bit of an opera air, but the old man put his hand on his arm, saying in a low tone, "Hush! hush! what's the use of such noise?" and leading the way to the opposite comer, he chose one of the smallest of the keys on his bunch, and stooped down, kneeling on one knee by the side of a large stone in the pavement, marked with a cross and a star, and having a keyhole in it covered with a brass plate made to play in the stone. The old man put in the key and turned it, but when he attempted to lift the slab it resisted.
"There, you must get it up for yourself," he said, rising, "I can't; take hold of the key, and with your young arm you'll soon get it up, I dare say."