Ormiston recoiled from touching it; and Sir Norman seeing what they were about to do, and knowing there was no help for it, made up his mind, like a sensible young man as he was, to conceal his feelings, and caught hold of the sheet himself.

In this fashion the dead bride was carried down stairs, and laid upon a shutter on the top of a pile of bodies in the dead-cart.
It was now almost dark, and as the cart started, the great clock of St.
Paul's struck eight.

St.Michael's, St Alban's, and the others took up the sound; and the two young men paused to listen.

For many weeks the sky had been clear, brilliant, and blue; but on this night dark clouds were scudding in wild unrest across it, and the air was oppressingly close and sultry.
"Where are you going now ?" said Ormiston.

"Are you for Whitehall's to night ?" "No!" said Sir Norman, rather dejectedly, turning to follow the pest-cart.