Something white lay in a corner on the seventh step from the top.

Curious to see what it was, I descended cautiously and with some reluctance; it was the half of a thick waxen taper, such as are used in the Catholic ritual at the burial of the dead.

No doubt it had been thrown down there by some careless acolyte, to save himself the trouble of carrying it after the service had ended.

I looked at it meditatively.

If I only had a light! I plunged my hands half abstractedly into the pockets of my trousers--something jingled! Truly they had buried me in haste.