'This is my brother's coffin' said the young gentleman. 'As I have already informed you, I thought it better that it should not be touched except in our presence. I need not remark that it has not been opened since it came.'
'How do we know? How do we know?'
This was Mr. Howarth.
'You do know,' was all the young gentleman replied. He nodded to the four men. They began to remove the screws.
The young gentleman had made me take his arm. I was glad of it before they'd got those screws all out. I don't know how many there were, but I thought they never would come to the end of them. No one spoke a word. I don't believe I ever breathed. I know I had to lean upon the young gentleman's arm to help me to stand. When they made ready to remove the lid I gave a start.
'Not yet,' he whispered. 'There's a shell within.'
I'd forgotten that the gentry are buried in two coffins, and sometimes three. When my turn comes I know that one will be enough. I shouldn't like to be fastened up in all that quantity of wood. Sure enough, when the lid was taken off, there was another one beneath. There was another weary lot of screws, though I don't think quite so many as before. Then one of the men said,
'That's the last.'
We all drew closer. The young gentleman spoke, his voice seeming strange.
'Remove the lid.'