The night air blew cold and chill upon me as I crawled out into an
unaccustomed place and felt my way over heaps of uneven earth and
stones that obstructed my progress in every direction. I called out
for Playfire, but the wind alone answered me; I shouted for Colonel
Morris; I entreated some one to tell me where I was; and in answer
there was a dead and terrible silence. The wind died away; not a
breath of air disturbed the heavy stillness which had fallen so
suddenly around me. Instead of the veil of merciful blackness which
had hidden everything hitherto from view, a gray light spread slowly
over the objects around, revealing a burial-ground, with an old church
standing in the midst--a burial-ground where grew rank nettles and
coarse, tall grass; where brambles trailed over the graves, and weeds
and decay consorted with the dead.
Moved by some impulse which I could not resist, I still held on my
course, over mounds of earth, between rows of headstones, till I reached
the other side of the church, under the shadow of which yawned an open
pit. To the bottom of it I peered, and there beheld an empty coffin; the
lid was laid against the side of the grave, and on a headstone,
displaced from its upright position, sat the late occupant of the grave,
looking at me with wistful, eager eyes.
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