"Light the candle," said the corpse.

Teig put his hand in his pocket, as well as he was able, and drew out a
flint and steel. He struck a spark out of it, and lit a burnt rag he had
in his pocket. He blew it until it made a flame, and he looked round
him. The church was very ancient, and part of the wall was broken down.
The windows were blown in or cracked, and the timber of the seats were
rotten. There were six or seven old iron candlesticks left there still,
and in one of these candlesticks Teig found the stump of an old candle,
and he lit it. He was still looking round him on the strange and horrid
place in which he found himself, when the cold corpse whispered in his
ear, "Bury me now, bury me now; there is a spade and turn the ground."
Teig looked from him, and he saw a spade lying beside the altar. He took
it up, and he placed the blade under a flag that was in the middle of
the aisle, and leaning all his weight on the handle of the spade, he
raised it. When the first flag was raised it was not hard to raise the
others near it, and he moved three or four of them out of their places.
The clay that was under them was soft and easy to dig, but he had not
thrown up more than three or four shovelfuls when he felt the iron touch
something soft like flesh. He threw up three or four more shovelfuls
from around it, and then he saw that it was another body that was buried
in the same place.

"I am afraid I'll never be allowed to bury the two bodies in the same
hole," said Teig, in his own mind. "You corpse, there on my back," says
he, "will you be satisfied if I bury you down here?" But the corpse
never answered him a word.

"That's a good sign," said Teig to himself. "Maybe he's getting quiet,"