The afternoon of the next day saw them at the door of the crypt with a candle, which Harold proceeded to light.

Stephen looked on admiringly, and said in a half- conscious way, the half-consciousness being shown in the implication: 'You are not afraid of the crypt ?' 'Not a bit! In my father's church there was a crypt, and I was in it several times.' As he spoke the memory of the last time he had been there swept over him.

He seemed to see again the many lights, held in hands that were never still, making a grim gloom where the black shadows were not; to hear again the stamp and hurried shuffle of the many feet, as the great oak coffin was borne by the struggling mass of men down the steep stairway and in through the narrow door.

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