He was able to think coolly despite his agitation, and knew that light was the first necessity.

The bruised wick was slow to catch; he had to light another match, his last one, before it flamed.

The couple of seconds that the light went down till the grease melted and the flame leaped again seemed of considerable length.

When the lit candle was placed steadily on top of the coffin, and a light, dim, though strong enough to see with, spread around, he stooped and lifted Stephen in his arms.

She was quite senseless, and so limp that a great fear came upon him that she might be dead.