man because I knew that he was timid and
a little superstitious; but, for myself, I did
not mind at all going there alone. At exactly
half-past eleven, on that Christmas eve, I
took all the church keys, and started from
my house to fulfil my promise. It was very
dark that night, and windy, and several of
our old lamps had either dropped out for
want of oil, or been blown out by the gusts.
I could not see any one in the street; but, as
I left my door, I fancied that I heard footsteps
a little way behind me. I should not
have noticed it then, if it had not been that
on several nights previously I had fancied
that some person had secretly followed me,
as I went about the town. I came up to a
little band of carol singers soon after, and
stood listening to them a minute or two.
When I bade them good night and a merry
Christmas, I had forgotten about the footsteps.
It was striking the three-quarters as
I passed over the stile into the churchyard;
and just after that I caught a sound like the
footsteps again. I looked back, and waited a
while; but I could hear nothing more. I was
ashamed to walk back a little way, for I
began to think that I was becoming a
coward, and conjuring up things out of my
fear. It was true I had fancied this before
that night; but it had never troubled me
till then, and so I did not doubt it was
some superstitious feeling about my task
that was at the bottom of it. "What object
could any one have in following a poor
man like me, night after night?" I asked
myself. So I went on through the pathway
between the gravestones, humming an old
ditty.

Now, though I had resolved to banish all
thought of the supposed footsteps from my
mind, I could not help just turning half
round as I stood with the great key in the
lock, and looking about in the direction I
had come. I own I was frightened then, for,
at about thirty yards' distance, I saw distinctly,
as I believed, the dark head of a man
peeping at me over the top of one of the
tombstones. I stood in the shadow of the
church porch, so that it would be difficult
for any one at that distance to observe I was
looking that way. The tombstone was some
way from the gravel path, and out of the
line of any one passing through the churchyard,
and indeed, as you know, no one
would have occasion to pass through the churchyard
unless he were going to the
church, like myself. I hesitated for a
moment, and then walked briskly towards it;
but the head seemed to withdraw itself
immediately and disappear. What was more
strange, I walked round the very stone, and
could see no one near; nor could I hear any
movement. A little further was another
tombstone, somewhat higher and with a
carved top, and I tried to persuade myself
that it was this top coming close behind the
other stone which had deceived me. But this
could not be; for stand how I would in the
church porch, I could not bring the second
tombstone exactly in a line with the first, to
my eye. I felt a little uneasy at this strange
fancy; but it would not do to go back, for
it was near twelve, and I had promised
the rector to be in the belfry, ready to
ring out a peal on the stroke of midnight.
So I opened the door quickly, closed it
behind me, and walked feeling my way down
the aisle.

I was quite in the dark, for my lanthorn
was in the vestry-room, and I kept a tinder-box
and matches there to light it. I had to
grope about for the keyhole of the heavy
iron-plated door, and again to fumble among
my bunch of keys to find the right one. I
am not a man of weak nerve; but a strange
sensation came over me, as I stood there
in the dark, feeling through all the bunch
for the key. The air of the church was close,
and had a faint smell of mouldering leather,
such as you smell in some libraries. I
believe it made me feel faint; for, just then,
I had so strong a tingling in my ears, that
I seemed to hear the bells already beginning
to peal forth in the belfty. I listened, and
fancied I heard distinctly that confused
jingle which precedes a full peal. The fancy
terrified me for the moment, for I knew that
I had seen the sexton ill in bed that day,
and that even he could not be there, unless
he had got the key from me. But when
this notion had passed, I set it down for
another invention of mine, and began to
think the tombstone affair no more worthy
of belief than this. So I turned the great
key with both my hands; and, opening an
inner fire-proof door, I let myself into the
vestry-room.

When I was once in there, I knew where
to find my lanthorn and tinder-box in a
moment. I always kept them on the second
shelf from the ground, in the closet just
behind where the plan of the parish estate
at East Haydocke hangs up framed and
glazed. But the pew opener kept her dusters
and brushes there also, and we used to have
words about her throwing my things out
of order sometimes. This time I found
that she had scattered my matches, and I
had to stoop down and feel about for them
among all the things at the bottom of the
closet, which took some time. When I found
them, I struck a light and blew the tinder
with my breath. I saw the sexton do
exactly the same thing one night as I stood
in the dark, right at the end of the aisle,
and his face reflected the fire at every puff
and looked quite devilish as it shone out
strongly and faded away again. I mention
this because I have thought of it since, and I
believe it had something to do with what
befel me that night I lighted my candle,
and shut it up in my lanthorn. It gave
a very weak light and the sides of the
lanthorn were of thick, yellow horn, very