He got safe across the moor just before sunset.
He entered the church, led the horse in with him, and put him into the Squire's pew.

He then struck a light, went into the chancel, and looked at the picture.

It was as he had left it; half on the wall, half drooping over the altar-place.

The walls were dank, and streaked here and there with green.

His footsteps echoed, and the edifice was all dark, except within the rays of his lantern; it also sang and moaned in a way to be accounted for by the action of the wind on a number of small apertures; but, nevertheless, it was a most weird and ghostly sound.