"Hush!" said the doctor sternly. "Now, what are you going to do--stay
and assist me, or go? If you have the slightest nervous dread, pray
leave me at once."
"Nay, I'm not skeared, doctor," said the old man grimly. "I've seen too
much o' this sort o' thing. I was a bit frightened when I saw that head
going along through the church without the body, but I'm not feared of
this."
"Stop, then, and help," said the doctor. "I'll pay you well. Can you
use a screw-driver?"
Moredock chuckled and took off his coat, which he hung upon one of the
ornamental handles of an old coffin foot. Then rolling up his
shirt-sleeves over his thin, sinewy arms, he took up a screw-driver--one
that he had brought--and as deftly as a carpenter began removing the
screws from the handsome coffin-lid.
As Moredock attacked the head, the doctor busied himself at the foot,
with the result that in a few minutes the screws were all laid together
upon the stone ledge at the side of the vault, and the coffin-lid, with
its engraved breast-plate, setting forth the name, age, and date, was
lifted up, and stood on end out of the way.
"What will be the best way of opening this?" said the doctor, as he held
the lamp over the gleaming lead inner coffin, with its diamond pattern
and silvery-looking solder marks along the sides. "Had we better melt
the solder?"
"Melt the sawder?" said Moredock, with a chuckle. "I'll show you a
trick worth two of that."
He went to where his coat hung, and took out of one of the pockets a
short, curved, chisel-looking tool with a keen point and a stout handle.
"There, doctor, that's the jockey for this job. Want it right open?"
"Yes; I want the lid right off. Can you manage it?"
"Can I manage it!" chuckled the old man derisively. "Look!"
Strange thoughts invaded the doctor's breast as to what at different
times had been the pursuits of the old sexton, as he saw him take the
singular-looking tool, place its point at the extreme right-hand corner
of the leaden coffin, place his shoulder against the butt of the handle,
and press down, when the point penetrated the thin lead at once, right
over the top of the curved blade. The rest was simple, for the old man
only worked the handle up and down close to the side where, acting as a
lever, the curved steel cut through the metal with the greatest ease, an
inch slit at a time, so that in a very few minutes the top corner was
reached. Then the head was cut across, and the old man paused to go
back to the foot and cut across there.
"Why didn't you continue cutting round?" said the doctor, speaking in a
low, subdued tone.
"You let me be, doctor," said Moredock, with an unpleasant laugh. "If
it was a leg, I shouldn't say naught, but let you do it. This is more
in my way. Look here."
He finished cutting the lead as he spoke, and then with a grim laugh
inserted his fingers in the slit, raised it a little, and then going to
the uncut side, hooked his fingers in again, placed his knee against the
coffin, and after the exercise of some little force, drew the long leaf
of lead over towards him, the uncut side acting like the hinges of a
lid, and laying bare the contents of the ghastly case.
"There," said the old sexton; "that means less trouble when we come to
shut him up again."
"You seem to know," said the doctor quickly.
"Man in my line picks up a few things, doctor," replied the sexton.
"But there you are. What next?"
The doctor took the lamp once more, and held it over the head of the
coffin, to scan with the deepest interest the head and face revealed.
"Sheared!" said Moredock grimly; "what is there to be skeared on? Only
seems to be asleep."
"Yes," said the doctor, gazing down and thoughtfully repeating the
sexton's words; "seems to be asleep. Suppose he is?"
The old man stared with his jaw dropping, and his features full of
wonder.
"Asleep? Nay, you said he'd broke his neck. No sleep that, poor chap."
"Hush!" said the doctor.
Moredock looked at him curiously, as he bent lower over the occupant of
the coffin.
"Rum game for us if he were only asleep," muttered the sexton uneasily.
"Dally wouldn't like that, and I shouldn't like it. That wouldn't do."
"Hale, strong--life arrested by that sudden accident," said the doctor,
as he laid his hand upon the cold forehead. "It must be possible. I am
satisfied now, and I will."
"Did you speak, doctor?" said Moredock.
"No. Yes," said North, setting down the lamp quickly. "Here, help me."
Moredock approached, wondering what was to be done next, and with a
vague idea in his brain that the doctor was about to test whether the
body before them contained any remains of life before making some
examination for increasing his anatomical knowledge.
"Now, quick. Lift."
"We two can't lift that, doctor. It takes four men. Why, there was
eight to bring it down."
"Can we shift it to the edge of this slab?"
"Ay, we might do that." And lifting first at the head, and then at the
foot, they moved the coffin to the extreme edge of the stone table,
leaving a good space on one side.
"Now, then, lift again. I will take the head; you the feet."
"What! lift him out, doctor?"
"Yes, man, yes. Don't waste time."
Moredock hesitated for a moment, and drew a long breath. Then, obeying
the orders he had received, he helped to lift the body out upon the
table, where it lay white and strange-looking in the yellow light.
"Now we can easily lift the coffin," said North. "Over yonder--out of
the way."
The sexton uttered a low whistle, as he once more obeyed, taking the
bottom handle of the massive casket, and it was placed on one side close
to where a generation or two of the passed-away Candlishes lay in their
bin-like niches.
This done, the old man passed his arm across his damp forehead.
"Mind me having a pipe, doctor?" he said uneasily. "This is a bit extry
like. I didn't know--"
"No, no; you must not smoke here," said the doctor hastily. "One
moment--into the middle of the table here."
Moredock obeyed again, and the recumbent figure of the dead squire was
placed exactly where the coffin had stood.
"That will do," said North. "Now, Moredock, what do you say to a
glass?"
"Glass? Ay, doctor. Want it badly," cried the old man eagerly, as the
doctor produced a silver flask, drew the cup from the bottom, and gave
it to the sexton.
Before doing so, however, North gave the flask a sharp shake, and the
old man's eyes sparkled as his countenance assumed a suspicious look at
this movement, so suggestive of medicine.
"I say, what is it?" he said.
"What is it? Cordial."
"Brandy?"
"No."
"Look here, doctor," said the old sexton hoarsely; "no games."
North paused.
"Shall I tell you what you are thinking, Moredock?" he said.
"Nay, you can't do that, clever as you are," cried the old man with a
chuckle.
"I can. You are thinking that I have poison here, ready to give you a
dose, so that you may die out of the way, and never be able to expose me
by betraying what you have seen."
The old man's jaw dropped again, and his face grew more wrinkled and
puckered up, if possible, as he scratched his head with one yellow claw.
"Well, it were some'at o' that kind," he said, with a grim chuckle.
"You old fool!" exclaimed the doctor; "don't I know that you could not
expose me without exposing yourself? Do you think me blind?"
"Nay, doctor, nay; you're a sharp one. You can see too much."
"Have I not seen how dexterous you are at work of this kind? Do you
think I cannot read what it all means? Moredock, I'll be bound to say
that one way or another you have made yourself a rich man."
"No, no, doctor; no, no!" cried the sexton. "A few pounds gathered
together to keep me out of the workus some day when I grow old."
"You think that I want to poison you, then, and to hide your body here?"
"Nay, nay, doctor, I don't. You haven't got no need, have you? Give us
a drop of the stuff."
"Yes, we are wasting time," said North, pouring out a portion of the
contents of his flask, and handing it to the old man, who took it, and,
in spite of all said, smelt it suspiciously.
"'Tarn't poison, is it, doctor?" he said piteously.
"Yes, if you took enough of it. But that drop will not hurt you.
There, don't be afraid. Toss it off. It is a liqueur."
The old man hesitated for a moment, gazing wildly at the doctor, and
then tossed it off at a draught.
"There! Do you feel as if you are going to fall down dead, old man, and
do you wonder which of these old niches I shall put you in?"
"Tchah! don't talk stuff, doctor," said the old fellow, putting his hand
to his throat; "you wouldn't do such a thing. That's good! That's
prime stuff. I never tasted nothing like that afore. It warms you
like, and makes you feel ready to do anything. Skeared! Who's skeared?
Tchah! What is there to mind? I'm ready, doctor. I'll help you.
What shall I do next?"
"Sit down on that ledge for a bit till I want you."
"Ay, to be sure," chuckled the old sexton, as he seated himself on a low
projection at the far end of the vault. "That's prime stuff. I could
drink another drop of that, doctor. But you go on. Nobody can't see
from outside, for I've put lights in here before now, and shut the doors
of a night, and tried it. There isn't a crack to show; so you go on."
The doctor watched the weird-looking old man, as he settled himself
comfortably, with his back in the corner, and went on muttering and
chuckling.
"Brandy's nothing to it," he went on--"tasted many a good drop in my
time. Eh? What say, doctor?"
"You shall have some more another time."
"Can't see outside. Sheared? Tchah! It wouldn't frighten a child."
The doctor approached him, but the old man took no notice, and went on
muttering:
"He! he! he! I could tell you something. I will some day. Frighten a
child. Old man? Tchah! Mean to live--long--Ah!"
The last ejaculation was drawn out into a long sigh, followed by a
heavy, regular breathing.
North placed his fingers in the sexton's neckcloth to make sure that
there was no danger of strangulation, and then turned away.
"Good for four or five hours, Master Moredock," he said; and then, with
his face lighting up strangely--"in the service of science--ambition--
yes, and for the sake of love. Shall I succeed?"
He paused for a few minutes, bending over the body on the table.
"It seems very horrible, but it is only the dread of a man about to
venture into the unknown. The first doctor who performed a serious
operation must have felt as I do now, and--What's that?"
He started upright, throwing his head back, and shaking it quickly, as
if he had suffered from a sudden vertigo.
"Pooh! nothing; a little excitement. Now for my great discovery, for I
must--I will succeed."
He stooped down quickly, and took a bottle and a case of instruments
from his black bag, when once more the curious sensation came over him,
and he shook his head again.
"The air is close and stifling," he said, as he recovered himself. "I
could have fancied that something brushed by my face."
Then, bending over the prostrate figure he rapidly laid bare again, four
hours quickly passed away in the gloomy vault, where the yellowish rays
of the shaded lamp shone directly down upon his busy fingers, and the
stony face of him who lay motionless in his deep sleep.
Four hours, and then he laid his hand upon the old sexton, who started
up wildly, and extended his claw-like hands, as if about to seize him by
the throat.
Volume 2, Chapter VI.