"Ay, I'm right," replied Bertha, straining her eyes to see the mourners; "the hour is near; and see the sextons stand there in Death's Croft, like twa ghouls, looking into the grave they have this moment finished."
Matilda intuitively turned her eyes to the burying-ground that went under the name of Death's Croft.
"You seem to know something more of this funeral than we of the castle generally learn of the fate of the distant cottagers," said she.
"They're lifting," said the nurse, overlooking Matilda's remark, "and the train moves to Death's Croft.
'Round and round
The unseen hand
Turns the fate
O' mortal man:
A screich at birth,
A grane at even—
The flesh to earth,
The soul to heav'n.'"
"Who is dead?" asked Matilda, as she fixed her eyes on the procession.
Bertha was silent. The procession reached Death's Croft, and, in a short time, the rattling of the stones and earth on the coffin-lid was distinctly heard. Matilda shuddered as the hollow sounds met her ear, and Bertha crooned the lines of poetry she had already repeated. The rattling sound ceased, and the loud clap of the spade indicated the approaching termination of the work. The mourners gradually departed, and the sextons, having finished their work, returned to the monastery.
"Come, come, now," said Bertha, "we've seen aneugh—the flesh to earth, the soul to heaven. A's dune—let us return to Roseallan."
"The inhabitant of that narrow cell has the advantage of me," muttered Matilda, sadly, as she rose to return home. "The marriage with the Redeemer is not forced, and the union endureth for ever."