cloisters to the south gate, Ketch grumbling all the way. He locked it,
and then turned back again.

Arrived about midway of the west quadrangle, the very darkest part in
all the cloisters, and the most dreary, Jenkins suddenly startled his
companion by declaring there was a light in the burial-ground.

"Come along!" growled Ketch. "You'll say there's corpse-candles there
next."

"It is only a little spark, like," said Jenkins, halting. "I should not
wonder but it is one of those pretty, innocent glowworms."

He leaned his arms upon the mullioned frame of the open Gothic window,
raised himself on tiptoe to obtain as complete a view as was possible,
and pushed his head out to reconnoitre the grave-yard. Mr. Ketch
shuffled on; the keys, held somewhat loosely in his hand by the string,
clanking together.

"Be you going to stop there all night?" he called out, when he had gone
a few paces, half turning round to speak.

At that moment a somewhat startling incident occurred. The keys were
whisked out of Mr. Ketch's hand, and fell, or appeared to fall, with a
clatter on the flags at his feet. He turned his anger upon Jenkins.

"Now then, you senseless calf! What did you do that for?"

"Did you speak?" asked Jenkins, taking his elbows from the distant
window-frame, and approaching.