This time it remained, for one, two, three, four seconds.
Peter's hand trembled now from a new kind of excitement, as he groped behind him for his one poor scout possession, the handbook.

Then he reached for the lamp, but the night wind blew it out just as the tall thing came again, and stayed for several seconds.
Peter groped for the little box of safety matches which always lay near the lamp.

These were the chief ornaments of his little room, the lamp and the safety matches.

He held a match close over page two hundred and eighty-four while he divided his gaze between this and the next lingering visitation of that strange, long, shadowy thing over the graveyard.

He struck match after match, as each blew out.