The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

THE ANTIQUARY. 155
leeted, to a sort of low vault or sacristy. As he cast his eye in the direction of the sound, he observed a strong reflection of red light glimmering
through these bars, and against the steps which descended to them. Dousterswivel stood a moment uncertain what to do; then, suddenly forming a
desperate resolution, he moved down the aisle to the place from which the
light proceeded.
Fortified with the sign of the cross, and as many exorcisms as his memory
could recover, he advanced to the grate, from which, unseen, he could see
what passed in the interior of the vault. As he approached with timid and
uncertain steps, the chant, after one or two wild and prolonged cadences,
died away into profound silence. The grate, when he reached it, presented
a singular spectacle in the interior of the sacristy. An open grave, with
four tall flambeaus, each about six feet high, placed at the four' corners - a
bier, having a corpse in its shroud, the arms folded upon the breast, rested
upon tressels at one side of the grave, as if ready to be interred - a priest,
dressed in his cope and stole, held open the service book - another churchman in his vestments bore a holy-water sprinkler, and two boys in white
surplices held censers with incense - arean, of a figure once tall and commanding, but now bent with age or infirmity, stood alone and nearest to
the coffin, attired in deep mourning-such were the most prominent figures
of the group. At a little distance were two or three persons of both sexes,
attired in long mourning hoods and cloaks; and five or six others in the
same lugubrious dress, still farther removed from the body, around the walls
of the vault, stood ranged in motionless order, each bearing in his hand a
huge torch of black wax. The smoky light from so many flambeaus, by
the red and indistinct atmosphere which it spread around, gave a hazy,
dubious, and as it were phantom-like appearance, to the outlines' of this singular apparition. The voice of the -priest —loud, clear, and sonorous-now
recited, from the breviary which he held in his hand, those solemn words
which the ritual of the Catholic church has consecrated to the rendering of
dust to dust. Meanwhile, Dousterswivel, the place, the hour, and the surprise considered, still remained uncertain whether what he saw was substantial, or an unearthly representation of the rites to which in former
times these walls were familiar, but which are now rarely practised in
Protestant countries, and almost never in Scotland. He was uncertain
whether to abide the conclusion of the ceremony, or to endeavour to regain
the chancel, when a change in his position made him visible through the
grate to one of the attendant mourners. The person who first espied him
indicated his discovery to the individual whostood apart and nearest to the
coffin, by a sign, and upon his making a sign in reply, two of the group
detached themselves, and, gliding along with noiseless steps, as if fearing
to disturb the service, unlocked and opened the grate which separated them
from the adept. Each took him by an arm, and exerting a degree of force,
which he would have been incapable of resisting had his fear permitted him
to attempt opposition, they placed him on the ground in the chancel, and
sat down, one on each side of him, as if to detain him. Satisfied he was in
the power of mortals like himself, the adept would have put some questions
to them; but while one pointed to the vault, from which the sound of the
priest's voice was distinctly heard, the other placed his finger upon his lips
in token of silence, a hint which the German thought it most prudent to
obey. And thus they detained him until a loud Alleluia, pealing through
the deserted arches of St. Ruth, closed the singular ceremony which it had
been his fortune to witness.
When the hymn had died away with ail its echoes, the voice of one of
the sable personages under whose guard the adept had remained, said, in a
familiar tone and dialect, "Dear sirs, Mr. Dousterswivel, is this you? could
not ye have let us ken an ye had wussed till hae been present at the cere