Around me was the dust of departed generations of the Morton family, while close to me was the face of one whom ten years before I had seen a bright and beautiful maiden. Ruth, whom I had ever loved, and who had died of love for me, was there!
Vague thoughts of how she would look floated in my brain, and in my delirium I fancied that her spirit had come back to watch me as I took one last look at her dead face.
The coffin was placed in a recess in the tomb. I knew it was hers, for it was new, and had been only lately placed there.
I thought I had heard a sound above. I listened for a second, but could hear nothing save the wild beatings of my almost breaking heart. Then I placed my hand on the coffin.
It was fastened with what looked like golden clasps, large and strong, which pressed closely on the grey oak of which the coffin was made. Mechanically I moved the clasps, and then lifted my lantern nearer.
Again I listened, but all was silent. If the spirits of the dead were there they made no sound.
I lifted the coffin lid.
For a second I held it in my hand, then I turned it back.
Even then I could not bear to look in and see my darling's dead face, and stood trying to gather together sufficient courage.
I let the light fall upon the head of the coffin and looked.