as he requested. I am glad you are come. You, reverend sir, can fitly say
a prayer at his obsequies. I am glad for my own sake; for it is very
lonely and terrible to be here."

He climbed out of the grave, and, in reply to the minister's inquiries,
communicated to him the events of the morning, and the youth's strange
wish to be buried here, without having his remains subjected to the hands
of those who would prepare it for the grave. The minister hesitated.

"At an ordinary time," said he, "such a singular request would of course
have to be refused. Your own safety, the good and wise rules that make it
necessary that all things relating to death and burial should be done
publicly and in order, would forbid it."

"Yes," replied Septimius; "but, it may be, scores of men will fall to-day,
and be flung into hasty graves without funeral rites; without its ever
being known, perhaps, what mother has lost her son. I cannot but think
that I ought to perform the dying request of the youth whom I have slain.
He trusted in me not to uncover his body myself, nor to betray it to the
hands of others."

"A singular request," said the good minister, gazing with deep interest at
the beautiful dead face, and graceful, slender, manly figure. "What could
have been its motive? But no matter. I think, Septimius, that you are
bound to obey his request; indeed, having promised him, nothing short of
an impossibility should prevent your keeping your faith. Let us lose no
time, then."

With few but deeply solemn rites the young stranger was laid by the
minister and the youth who slew him in his grave. A prayer was made, and