Cruel As The Grave

On first being moved, Sybil sighed once and turned over and then she

fell into a still deeper sleep, from which she did not again awake even

when they bore her into the dreadful Haunted Chapel, and laid her down,

still on the mattress, in the old place, to the right of the altar.

"Poor child! She was so tired, so worn out in body and mind, that she

could scarcely sit her horse. Yet she never once complained, nor should

I have even surmised the extent of her prostration, were it not for this

coma-like sleep. She will not wake now. We may safely leave her alone

while we go back and bring our saddle horses here, for we must bring

them in order to hide them to-day and use them to-night. And you, Joe,

after you have helped me to bring the horses through the thicket, must

go to Blackville and buy food and bring it to us to-night before we

resume our journey."

"Yes, sir; and meantimes, there is some crackers and cheese and

sweetmeats, and likewise a bottle of port wine, in the cart, as you left

in the chapel when you went away."

"Oh, indeed! that will be a godsend, Joe! We must bring that back to the

chapel with us when we come," said Mr. Berners, as with his servant he

bent his steps back to the thicket path.

Sybil, left alone in the interior of the haunted chapel, slept on

soundly for some little time. She had not really been quite unconscious

of her removal thither. She had half waked on being taken from the cart,

but had immediately fallen asleep again; though she was still vaguely

conscious of being borne along to some place of safety and repose, and

that her devoted husband and her faithful servant were her

bearers--vaguely conscious also of being laid down upon some level place

of perfect rest, with a roof above her head; but beyond this she knew

nothing, cared nothing, being too utterly prostrated in mind and body to

rouse herself to any utterances, or even to save herself from sinking to

sleep.

How long she had slept she never could tell, when at length she was

suddenly and fearfully aroused--aroused to a degree of wakefulness that

neither the noisy jolting over the rocky road, nor the painful dragging

through the thorny thicket had been able to effect.

And yet it was but by a touch--the touch of an ice-cold little hand

passing lightly over her face.

She started up in a panic and glared around. All seemed black as pitch,

and at first she could see nothing; but as she strained her eyes, she

dimly discerned the shapes of the gothic windows, with the dark night

sky and the ghostly trees beyond; and she recognized the Haunted Chapel!