Meanwhile, with a great show of importance, Moredock assisted the undertaker’s men in the closing of the yawning door of the vault, afterwards shutting the iron gates with a strange, echoing clang, and turning the key; while North, who seemed wrapped in thought, stood watching him.
At that moment Salis came out of the vestry, with his sister, and was about to go up to North and speak; but he drew back as Cousin Thompson came round the end of the chancel.
“Why, here you are!” exclaimed the latter. “The carriage is waiting, and all the rest are gone.”
“Gone?” said the doctor dreamily. “Gone where?”
“Where? Why, up to the Hall, of course. We must hear the will.”
“No,” said North coldly; “the will does not concern me. I am not coming.”
“Not coming?” cried Cousin Thompson. “Why, the man must be mad.”
He hurried along the path, to spring into the carriage waiting at the gate, while after a glance round at the knots of people waiting about the churchyard, North walked slowly up to old Moredock.
The old man saw him coming, and half turned away as if to speak to his grandchild, but North checked him.
“Moredock,” he said quietly, “you’ll want that medicine to-night.”