were accustomed to burn during the night. Now, however, we were entering
darksome and murky recesses.

"Return," said he, in a tone of command, "and fetch the light. I will
wait for you."

I obeyed. As I returned with the light, a suspicion stole into my mind,
that Welbeck had taken this opportunity to fly; and that, on regaining
the foot of the stairs, I should find the spot deserted by all but the
dead. My blood was chilled by this image. The momentary resolution it
inspired was to follow the example of the fugitive, and leave the
persons whom the ensuing day might convene on this spot, to form their
own conjectures as to the cause of this catastrophe.

Meanwhile, I cast anxious eyes forward. Welbeck was discovered in the
same place and posture in which he had been left. Lifting the corpse and
its shroud in his arms, he directed me to follow him. The vaults beneath
were lofty and spacious. He passed from one to the other till we reached
a small and remote cell. Here he cast his burden on the ground. In the
fall, the face of Watson chanced to be disengaged from its covering. Its
closed eyes and sunken muscles were rendered in a tenfold degree ghastly
and rueful by the feeble light which the candle shed upon it.

This object did not escape the attention of Welbeck. He leaned against
the wall, and, folding his arms, resigned himself to reverie. He gazed
upon the countenance of Watson, but his looks denoted his attention to
be elsewhere employed.

As to me, my state will not be easily described. My eye roved fearfully
from one object to another. By turns it was fixed upon the murdered