As the bearers of the burden marched past the two watchers, Adam bent down, and, by the help of a stray gleam of moonlight, saw that there was a little corpse in the coffin.
'Robin, mi lad,' said he, in a trembling voice and with a scared look, 'it's th' pictur o' thee as they hev i' th' coffin!'
With a gasp of terror the young man also stooped towards the bearers, and saw clearly enough that the face of the figure borne by the fairies indeed closely resembled his own, save that it was ghastly with the pallor and dews of death.
The procession had passed ere he was able to speak, for, already much affrighted by the appearance of the fairies, the sight of the little corpse had quite unnerved him. Clinging in a terrified manner to the old man, he said, in a broken voice—
'It raley wor me, Adam! Dust think it's a warnin', an' I'm abaat to dee?'
The old man stepped out into the road as he replied—
'It wur a quare seet, Robin, no daat; bud I've sin monny sich i' mi toime, an' theyne come to nowt i' th' end. Warnin' or not, haaever,' he added, with strong common sense, 'ther'll be no harm done bi thee livin' as if it wur one.'
The mournful music of the strange singers and the solemn sound of the passing bell could still be heard, and the two awe-struck men stood gazing after the cavalcade.