shifting among themselves. The sound still continued; it seemed as if
something was being gently worked to and fro, as in a soft socket. His
imagination was not very quick to represent impossible dangers, nor had
he in him more cowardice than dwells in most brave men. He did not allow
himself to conclude that he heard the coffin-lid being opened from the
inside. He took his lamp and went to see what was wrong.

The sound ceased as he moved. When the light of the lamp was in the next
room all was perfectly silent. For almost half a minute he stood still,
shading his eyes from the lamp, while, with every disagreeable sensation
crowding upon him, he observed distinctly that, although the nails were
still holding it loosely in place, the lid of the coffin was raised half
an inch, more than that indeed, at the top.

"Now, look here, you know--this won't do," said Trenholme, in loud
authoritative tones; so transported was he by the disagreeableness of
his situation that, for the moment, he supposed himself speaking to the
man with whom he had just spoken. Then, realising that that man,
although gone, was yet probably within call, he set down the lamp
hastily and ran out.

It seemed to him remarkable that Saul and the oxen could have gone so
far along the road, although of course they were still plainly in
sight. He shouted, but received no answer. He raised his voice and
shouted again and again, with force and authority. He ran, as he
shouted, about twenty paces. In return he only heard Saul's own commands
to his oxen. Whether the man was making so much noise himself that he
could not hear, or whether he heard and would not attend, Trenholme
could not tell, but he felt at the moment too angry to run after him
farther. It was not his place to wait upon this carter and run his