Just as he arrived at the garden
paling, the door opened, and from the inside of the dwelling there
protruded slowly into the open air a coffin carried on four men's
shoulders, and covered with a magnificent black velvet pall.
Mat stopped the moment he saw the coffin, and struck his hand violently
on the paling by his side. "Dead!" he exclaimed under his breath.
"A friend of the late Miss Grice's?" asked a gently inquisitive voice
near him.
He did not hear. All his attention was fixed on the coffin, as it was
borne slowly over the garden path. Behind it walked two gentlemen,
mournfully arrayed in black cloaks and hat-bands. They carried white
handkerchiefs in their hands, and used them to wipe--not their
eyes--but their lips, on which the balmy dews of recent wine-drinking
glistened gently.
"Dix, and Nawby--the medical attendant of the deceased, and the
solicitor who is her sole executor," said the voice near Mat, in tones
which had ceased to be gently inquisitive, and had become complacently
explanatory instead. "That's Millbury the undertaker, and the other is
Gutteridge of the White Hart Inn, his brother-in-law, who supplies the
refreshments, which in my opinion makes a regular job of it," continued
the voice, as two red-faced gentlemen followed the doctor and the
lawyer.
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