On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. Three more people came to meet them at the door. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. "Here's a door," remarked Ireton, when he got to that nearest the leads, "which I could have sworn would have resisted anything. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. Wood went on fuming, and the trio went on laughing for some minutes, nobody knew why or wherefore, until the party was increased by Mr.
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