TIM'S STORY. 71 



like wandering ghosts, among the graves ; but that night there 

 was only one, and it seemed bigger and brighter than any I 

 had ever noticed. Tor awhile, it seemed to nutter like over 

 the long grass, so that I could see every blade ; then on the 

 path, where it showed the churchyard beetles a crawling from 

 their holes ; then, high and higher, it rose to the top of the 

 moninient and hovered right over Sir Timothy's stone face ; 

 and then I saw, as plain as I can see you now, that he turned 

 his great white eyes towards where I was sitting with a look as 

 if he wanted to remind me of what he told me in my dream- 

 that is, if it was a dream at all. I expected next to have seen 

 him sliding off the tomb ; but there, all but his rolling eyes, he 

 laid quite quiet. But it wasn't so, how r ever, with the light, 

 for that now suddenly came right up to me, then as suddenly 

 went back, stood still a minute, then returned as if inviting 

 me to follow, and follow I felt I must, lead wherever it would. 

 I couldn't keep my eyes from off it ; and my legs (lame and 

 weak as they are) seemed to carry me after it of their own 

 accord. I suppose, when I got up, that I must have took my 

 crutch from off the ground, as it was found beside me ; but I 

 didn't seem to need it, for away we went that brave corpse- 

 light and I over the grave hillocks yet I never stumbled - 

 through the churchyard-gate; but I don't remember that I 

 stopped to open it, or heard it slam-to behind me, and away 

 down through the meadows below all in a mist with the 

 heavy dew down, down, towards the river. I knowed we 



VOL. III. F 



