“Doctor’s not got over his tumble that night,” muttered the old man. “He’s shook, that’s what’s the matter with him; and he haven’t got his thinking tackle quite put right again. It’s worried him, too, about that there gel. Well, she won’t come to the vestry to-night, and there’s no fear o’ Squire Tom coming, for he won’t be out o’ bed, they say, for days. Miss won’t want to go and sit there all by herself wi’out she thinks as the doctor would do now. A baggage!—that’s what she is—a baggage! and looking all the time so smooth and good. Wonder what parson would say if he knowed of her goings on?”
The old man sat musing and smoking for an hour, and then, by way of preparation for his night work, he let his head go down upon his chest, and sat sleeping in front of his fire for hours.
As the evening wore on, Joe Chegg came sauntering by, and then returned, so as to get a casual glance in at the window. Then he had another, and satisfied at last that the old man was fast asleep, he stood watching him till he saw by the failing fire that the sleeper was about to awaken, when he drew back, and softly and thoughtfully went away.
Just before twelve the old man took his lanthorn, went to the door, and looked out; stood for a while, and then, with an activity not to be expected of one of his years, he walked sharply and silently in the direction of the churchyard, keeping a keen lookout for interlopers. But his walk beneath the glittering stars was uninterrupted, and he made his way silently to the back of the church, looked about him, and, seeing no one, unlocked the iron gate and the mausoleum door, and then turned to wait.
But as he turned, he started, for a hand was laid upon his shoulder.
“Why, doctor, I didn’t hear you come.”
“I was sitting there waiting,” said North. “Quick!”
He pressed the door, and looked right into the dark place, where he had not been since Tom Candlish was lifted out and placed by the roadside on the night of the encounter; while now it seemed to the sexton that his companion was beset by a feverish energy and desire to continue his task.
“All right, doctor—all right! Wait till I get a light,” grumbled the old man, after he had closed the door. “That’s it. There you are. Brought the cordle?”
“Yes.”