Glory was not going to knock on the humble door of Peter Piper of Piper's Crossroads....
Peter glanced down the dark road toward the graveyard; he had always hurried past that spot when coming home from the crossroads at night.
Once he had seen a ghostly figure on the stone wall, which, on more careful inspection the next morning, proved to be the sexton's shovel with his hat on top of it.

The little church was around the bend of the road, within the hallowed acre.
Suddenly, as Peter glanced in the direction where the old leaning gravestones were wrapped in darkness, he saw something which harrowed his very soul and made his blood run cold.

One of those stones was bathed in a dim, shadowy light.

It was startling to see just one stone and no others.

It was not a light so much as an area of gossamer brightness that enveloped it, a kind of gauze shroud.