CHAPTER XLV.
THE OPEN GRAVES.--THE DEAD BODIES.--A SCENE OF TERROR.
We have said Waggles spoilt everything, and so he did, for before Mr.Leigh could utter a word more, or advance two steps towards the rioters,Waggles charged them staff in hand, and there soon ensued a riot of amost formidable description.
A kind of desperation seemed to have seized the beadle, and certainly,by his sudden and unexpected attack, he achieved wonders. When, however,a dozen hands got hold of the staff, and it was wrenched from him, andhe was knocked down, and half-a-dozen people rolled over him, Waggleswas not near the man he had been, and he would have been very wellcontent to have lain quiet where he was; this, however, he was notpermitted to do, for two or three, who had felt what a weightyinstrument of warfare the parochial staff was, lifted him bodily fromthe ground, and canted him over the wall, without much regard to whetherhe fell on a hard or a soft place on the other side.
This feat accomplished, no further attention was paid to Mr. Leigh, who,finding that his exhortations were quite unheeded, retired into thechurch with an appearance of deep affliction about him, and lockedhimself in the vestry.
The crowd now had entire possession--without even the sort of controlthat an exhortation assumed over them--of the burying-ground, and soonin a dense mass were these desperate and excited people collected roundthe well-known spot where lay the mortal remains of Miles, the butcher.
"Silence!" cried a loud voice, and every one obeyed the mandate, lookingtowards the speaker, who was a tall, gaunt-looking man, attired in asuit of faded black, and who now pressed forward to the front of thethrong.
"Oh!" cried one, "it's Fletcher, the ranter. What does he do here?"
"Hear him! hear him!" cried others; "he won't stop us."
"Yes, hear him," cried the tall man, waving his arms about like thesails of a windmill. "Yes, hear him. Sons of darkness, you're allvampyres, and are continually sucking the life-blood from each other. Nowonder that the evil one has power over you all. You're as men who walkin the darkness when the sunlight invites you, and you listen to thewords of humanity when those of a diviner origin are offered to youracceptance. But there shall be miracles in the land, and even in thisplace, set apart with a pretended piety that is in itself most damnable,you shall find an evidence of the true light; and the proof that thosewho will follow me the true path to glory shall be found here withinthis grave. Dig up Miles, the butcher!"
"Hear, hear, hear, hurra!" said every body. "Mr. Fletcher's not such afool, after all. He means well."
"Yes, you sinners," said the ranter, "and if you find Miles, thebutcher, decaying--even as men are expected to decay whose mortaltabernacles are placed within the bowels of the earth--you shall gatherfrom that a great omen, and a sign that if you follow me you seek theLord; but I you find him looking fresh and healthy, as if the warm bloodwas still within his veins, you shall take that likewise as asignification that what I say to you shall be as the Gospel, and that bycoming to the chapel of the Little Boozlehum, ye shall achieve a greatsalvation."
"Very good," said a brawny fellow, advancing with a spade in his hand;"you get out of the way, and I'll soon have him up. Here goes, like blueblazes!"
The first shovelful of earth he took up, he cast over his head into theair, so that it fell in a shower among the mob, which of course raised ashout of indignation; and, as he continued so to dispose of thesuperfluous earth, a general row seemed likely to ensue. Mr. Fletcheropened his mouth to make a remark, and, as that feature of his face wasrather a capacious one, a descending lump of mould, of a clayeyconsistency, fell into it, and got so wedged among his teeth, that inthe process of extracting it he nearly brought some of those essentialportions of his anatomy with it.
This was a state of things that could not last long, and he who had beenso liberal with his spadesful of mould was speedily disarmed, and yet hewas a popular favourite, and had done the thing so good-humouredly, thatnobody touched him. Six or eight others, who had brought spades andpickaxes, now pushed forward to the work, and in an incredibly shortspace of time the grave of Miles, the butcher, seemed to be very nearlyexcavated.
Work of any kind or nature whatever, is speedily executed when done witha wish to get through it; and never, perhaps, within the memory of man,was a grave opened in that churchyard with such a wonderful celerity.The excitement of the crowd grew intense--every available spot fromwhich a view of the grave could be got, was occupied; for the last fewminutes scarcely a remark had been uttered, and when, at last, the spadeof one of those who were digging struck upon something that sounded likewood, you might have heard a pin drop, and each one there present drewhis breath more shortly than before.
"There he is," said the man, whose spade struck upon the coffin.
Those few words broke the spell, and there was a general murmur, whileevery individual present seemed to shift his position in his anxiety toobtain a better view of what was about to ensue.
The coffin now having been once found, there seemed to be an increasedimpetus given to the work; the earth was thrown out with a rapidity thatseemed almost the quick result of the working of some machine; and thoseclosest to the grave's brink crouched down, and, intent as they wereupon the progress of events, heeded not the damp earth that fell uponthem, nor the frail brittle and humid remains of humanity thatoccasionally rolled to their feet.
It was, indeed, a scene of intense excitement--a scene which only wanteda few prominent features in its foreground of a more intellectual andhigher cast than composed the mob, to make it a fit theme for a painterof the highest talent.
And now the last few shovelfuls of earth that hid the top of the coffinwere cast from the grave, and that narrow house which contained themortal remains of him who was so well known, while in life, to almostevery one then present, was brought to the gaze of eyes which never hadseemed likely to have looked upon him again.
The cry was now for ropes, with which to raise the cumbrous mass; butthese were not to be had, no one thought of providing himself with suchappliances, so that by main strength, only, could the coffin be raisedto the brink.
The difficulty of doing this was immense, for there was nothing tangibleto stand upon; and even when the mould from the sides was sufficientlycleared away, that the handles of the coffin could be laid hold of, theycame away immediately in the grasp of those who did so.
But the more trouble that presented itself to the accomplishment of thedesigns of the mob, the more intent that body seemed upon carrying outto the full extent their original designs.
Finding it quite impossible by bodily strength to raise the coffin ofthe butcher from the position in which it had got imbedded by excessiverains, a boy was hastily despatched to the village for ropes, and neverdid boy run with such speed before, for all his own curiosity wasexcited in the issue of an adventure, that to his young imagination wasappallingly interesting.
As impatient as mobs usually are, they had not time, in this case, forthe exercise of that quality of mind before the boy came back with thenecessary means of exerting quite a different species of power againstthe butcher's coffin.
Strong ropes were slid under the inert mass, and twenty hands at onceplied the task of raising that receptacle of the dead from what had beenpresumed to be its last resting-place. The ropes strained and creaked,and many thought that they would burst asunder sooner than raise theheavy coffin of the defunct butcher.
It is singular what reasons people find for backing their opinion.
"You may depend he's a vampyre," said one, "or it wouldn't be sodifficult to get him out of the grave."
"Oh, there can be no mistake about that," said one; "when did a naturalChristian's coffin stick in the mud in that way?"
"Ah, to be sure," said another; "I knew no good would come of his goingson; he never was a decent sort of man like his neighbours, and manyqueer things have been said of him that I have no doubt are true enough,if we did but know the rights of them."
"Ah, but,
" said a young lad, thrusting his head between the two who weretalking, "if he is a vampyre, how does he get out of his coffin of anight with all that weight of mould a top of him?"
One of the men considered for a moment, and then finding no rationalanswer occur to him, he gave the boy a box on the ear, saying,--
"I should like to know what business that is of yours? Boys, now-a-days,ain't like the boys in my time; they think nothing now of putting theirspokes in grown-up people's wheels, just as if their opinions were ofany consequence."
Now, by a vigorous effort, those who were tugging at the ropes succeededin moving the coffin a little, and that first step was all thedifficulty, for it was loosened from the adhesive soil in which it lay,and now came up with considerable facility.
There was a half shout of satisfaction at this result, while some of thecongregation turned pale, and trembled at the prospect of the sightwhich was about to present itself; the coffin was dragged from thegrave's brink fairly among the long rank grass that flourished in thechurchyard, and then they all looked at it for a time, and the men whohad been most earnest in raising it wiped the perspiration from theirbrows, and seemed to shrink from the task of opening that receptacle ofthe dead now that it was fairly in their power so to do.
Each man looked anxiously in his neighbour's face, and several audiblywondered why somebody else didn't open the coffin.
"There's no harm in it," said one; "if he's a vampyre, we ought to knowit; and, if he ain't, we can't do any hurt to a dead man."
"Oughtn't we to have the service for the dead?" said one.
"Yes," said the impertinent boy who had before received the knock on thehead, "I think we ought to have that read backwards."
This ingenious idea was recompensed by a great many kicks and cuffs,which ought to have been sufficient to have warned him of the greatdanger of being a little before his age in wit.
"Where's the use of shirking the job?" cried he who had been so activein shoveling the mud upon the multitude; "why, you cowardly sneaking setof humbugs, you're half afraid, now."
"Afraid--afraid!" cried everybody: "who's afraid."
"Ah, who's afraid?" said a little man, advancing, and assuming an heroicattitude; "I always notice, if anybody's afraid, it's some big fellow,with more bones than brains."
At this moment, the man to whom this reproach was more particularlylevelled, raised a horrible shout of terror, and cried out, in franticaccents,--
"He's a-coming--he's a-coming!"
The little man fell at once into the grave, while the mob, with oneaccord, turned tail, and fled in all directions, leaving him alone withthe coffin. Such a fighting, and kicking, and scrambling ensued to getover the wall of the grave-yard, that this great fellow, who had causedall the mischief, burst into such peals of laughter that the majority ofthe people became aware that it was a joke, and came creeping back,looking as sheepish as possible.
Some got up very faint sorts of laugh, and said "very good," and sworethey saw what big Dick meant from the first, and only ran to make theothers run.
"Very good," said Dick, "I'm glad you enjoyed it, that's all. My eye,what a scampering there was among you. Where's my little friend, who wasso infernally cunning about bones and brains?"
With some difficulty the little man was extricated from the grave, andthen, oh, for the consistency of a mob! they all laughed at him; thosevery people who, heedless of all the amenities of existence, had beentrampling upon each other, and roaring with terror, actually had theimpudence to laugh at him, and call him a cowardly little rascal, andsay it served him right.
But such is popularity!
"Well, if nobody won't open the coffin," said big Dick, "I will, so heregoes. I knowed the old fellow when he was alive, and many a time he'sd----d me and I've d----d him, so I ain't a-going to be afraid of himnow he's dead. We was very intimate, you see, 'cos we was the twoheaviest men in the parish; there's a reason for everything."
"Ah, Dick's the fellow to do it," cried a number of persons; "there'snobody like Dick for opening a coffin; he's the man as don't care fornothing."
"Ah, you snivelling curs," said Dick, "I hate you. If it warn't for myown satisfaction, and all for to prove that my old friend, the butcher,as weighed seventeen stone, and stood six feet two and-a-half on his ownsole, I'd see you all jolly well--"
"D----d first," said the boy; "open the lid, Dick, let's have a look."
"Ah, you're a rum un," said Dick, "arter my own heart. I sometimesthinks as you must be a nevy, or some sort of relation of mine.Howsomdever, here goes. Who'd a thought that I should ever had a look atold fat and thunder again?--that's what I used to call him; and then heused to request me to go down below, where I needn't turn round to lightmy blessed pipe."
"Hell--we know," said the boy; "why don't you open the lid, Dick?"
"I'm a going," said Dick; "kim up."
He introduced the corner of a shovel between the lid and the coffin, andgiving it a sudden wrench, he loosened it all down one side.
A shudder pervaded the multitude, and, popularly speaking, you mighthave heard a pin drop in that crowded churchyard at that eventfulmoment.
Dick then proceeded to the other side, and executed the same manoeuvre.
"Now for it," he said; "we shall see him in a moment, and we'll think weseed him still."
"What a lark!" said the boy.
"You hold yer jaw, will yer? Who axed you for a remark, blow yer? Whatdo you mean by squatting down there, like a cock-sparrow, with a pain inhis tail, hanging yer head, too, right over the coffin? Did you neverhear of what they call a fluvifium coming from the dead, yer ignorantbeast, as is enough to send nobody to blazes in a minute? Get out of theway of the cold meat, will yer?"
"A what, do you say, Dick?"
"Request information from the extreme point of my elbow."
Dick threw down the spade, and laying hold of the coffin-lid with bothhands, he lifted it off, and flung it on one side.
There was a visible movement and an exclamation among the multitude.Some were pushed down, in the eager desire of those behind to obtain asight of the ghastly remains of the butcher; those at a distance werefrantic, and the excitement was momentarily increasing.
They might all have spared themselves the trouble, for the coffin wasempty--here was no dead butcher, nor any evidence of one ever havingbeen there, not even the grave-clothes; the only thing at all in thereceptacle of the dead was a brick.
Dick's astonishment was so intense that his eyes and mouth kept openingtogether to such an extent, that it seemed doubtful when they wouldreach their extreme point of elongation. He then took up the brick andlooked at it curiously, and turned it over and over, examined the endsand the sides with a critical eye, and at length he said,--
"Well, I'm blowed, here's a transmogrification; he's consolidifiedhimself into a blessed brick--my eye, here's a curiosity."
"But you don't mean to say that's the butcher, Dick?" said the boy.
Dick reached over, and gave him a tap on the head with the brick.
"There!" he said, "that's what I calls occular demonstration. Do youbelieve it now, you blessed infidel? What's more natural? He was anout-and-out brick while he was alive; and he's turned to a brick nowhe's dead."
"Give it to me, Dick," said the boy; "I should like to have that brick,just for the fun of the thing."
"I'll see you turned into a pantile first. I sha'n't part with thishere, it looks so blessed sensible; it's a gaining on me every minute asa most remarkable likeness, d----d if it ain't."
By this time the bewilderment of the mob had subsided; now that therewas no dead butcher to look upon, they fancied themselves mostgrievously injured; and, somehow or other, Dick, notwithstanding all hisexertions in their service, was looked upon in the light of a showman,who had promised some startling exhibition and then had disappointed hisauditors.
The first intimation he had of popular vengeance was a stone thrown athim, but Dick's eye happened to be upon the fel
low who threw it, andcollaring him in a moment, he dealt him a cuff on the side of the head,which confused his faculties for a week.
"Hark ye," he then cried, with a loud voice, "don't interfere with me;you know it won't go down. There's something wrong here; and, as one ofyourselves, I'm as much interested in finding out what it is as any ofyou can possibly be. There seems to be some truth in this vampyrebusiness; our old friend, the butcher, you see, is not in his grave;where is he then?"
The mob looked at each other, and none attempted to answer the question.
"Why, of course, he's a vampyre," said Dick, "and you may all of youexpect to see him, in turn, come into your bed-room windows with aburst, and lay hold of you like a million and a half of leeches rolledinto one."
There was a general expression of horror, and then Dick continued,--
"You'd better all of you go home; I shall have no hand in pulling up anymore of the coffins--this is a dose for me. Of course you can do whatyou like."
"Pull them all up!" cried a voice; "pull them all up! Let's see how manyvampyres there are in the churchyard."
"Well, it's no business of mine," said Dick; "but I wouldn't, if I wasyou."
"You may depend," said one, "that Dick knows something about it, or hewouldn't take it so easy."
"Ah! down with him," said the man who had received the box on the ears;"he's perhaps a vampyre himself."
The mob made a demonstration towards him, but Dick stood his ground, andthey paused again.
"Now, you're a cowardly set," he said; "cause you're disappointed, youwant to come upon me. Now, I'll just show what a little thing willfrighten you all again, and I warn beforehand it will, so you sha'n'tsay you didn't know it, and were taken by surprise."
The mob looked at him, wondering what he was going to do.
"Once! twice! thrice!" he said, and then he flung the brick up into theair an immense height, and shouted "heads," in a loud tone.
A general dispersion of the crowd ensued, and the brick fell in thecentre of a very large circle indeed.
"There you are again," said Dick; "why, what a nice act you are!"
"What fun!" said the boy. "It's a famous coffin, this, Dick," and helaid himself down in the butcher's last resting-place. "I never was in acoffin before--it's snug enough."
"Ah, you're a rum 'un," said Dick; "you're such a inquiring genius, youis; you'll get your head into some hole one day, and not be able to getit out again, and then I shall see you a kicking. Hush! lay still--don'tsay anything."
"Good again," said the boy; "what shall I do?"
"Give a sort of a howl and a squeak, when they've all come back again."
"Won't I!" said the boy; "pop on the lid."
"There you are," said Dick; "d----d if I don't adopt you, and bring youup to the science of nothing."
"Now, listen to me, good people all," added Dick; "I have really gotsomething to say to you."
At this intimation the people slowly gathered again round the grave.
"Listen," said Dick, solemnly; "it strikes me there's some tremendous dogoing on."
"Yes, there is," said several who were foremost.
"It won't be long before you'll all of you be most d--nably astonished;but let me beg of all you not to accuse me of having anything to do withit, provided I tell you all I know."
"No, Dick; we won't--we won't--we won't."
"Good; then, listen. I don't know anything, but I'll tell you what Ithink, and that's as good; I don't think that this brick is the butcher;but I think, that when you least expect it--hush! come a little closer."
"Yes, yes; we are closer."
"Well, then, I say, when you all least expect it, and when you ain'tdreaming of such a thing, you'll hear something of my fat friend as isdead and gone, that will astonish you all."
Dick paused, and he gave the coffin a slight kick, as intimation to theboy that he might as well be doing his part in the drama, upon whichthat ingenious young gentleman set up such a howl, that even Dickjumped, so unearthly did it sound within the confines of that receptacleof the dead.
But if the effect upon him was great, what must it have been upon thosewhom it took completely unawares? For a moment or two they seemedcompletely paralysed, and then they frightened the boy, for the shout ofterror that rose from so many throats at once was positively alarming.
This jest of Dick's was final, for, before three minutes had elapsed,the churchyard was clear of all human occupants save himself and theboy, who had played his part so well in the coffin.
"Get out," said Dick, "it's all right--we've done 'em at last; and nowyou may depend upon it they won't be in a hurry to come here again. Youkeep your own counsel, or else somebody will serve you out for this. Idon't think you're altogether averse to a bit of fun, and if you keepyourself quiet, you'll have the satisfaction of hearing what's saidabout this affair in every pot-house in the village, and no mistake."