70 TIM'S STORY. 



slmlt do me greater service. He took a pride in preserving yonder 

 empty mockery of a tomb; but ihou shalt have interred rnyun- 

 buried bones. Never yet have they rested in holy ground, or had 

 Christian burial, and therefore do I haunt this scene of inv 

 mockery and murder. Yes, most foully was I murdered, and 

 by her. 9 He pointed as he spoke to the image of his lady,, 

 which was then laying alone upon tin- inoniment. ' But 

 come, Tim, come ! the? night is fast Availing, and I must show 

 von before cock-crowing where inv bones are laid/ As lie 



t/ O t/ 



said that, he rose, and gripped my arm so tight witli both his 

 hands, all covered with stone armour, that I felt as if he had 

 almost turned me into stone too; but yet I tried to shake him 

 off, and that, as I suppose, awoke me. I hardly know, indeed, 

 whether I had slept or not all I had seen appeared so real; 

 but at that moment I seemed to be aware that I was not sitting 

 up, but laying just as I had thrown myself down on grand- 

 lather's grave. Then I did get up, and looked round me. 

 1 could see the old nioiiimeiit before me then, just as usual, 

 with both Sir Timothy and his lady laying at top, side by side ; 

 but as the moon had only just got up on the other side of the 

 church, the part where I stood was all in darkness, and the 

 inoniment and the images, coining agen the sky, looked as if 

 they were cut out of black marble instead of white. While I 



t/ 



was looking, all of a sudden, a rising from the ground, appeared 

 a bright moving light. It was just like the corpse-candles 

 I had seen often enough before, a flitting now here, now there, 



