like their domiciles; there was no light in all the neighbourhood

but a little peep from a lamp that hung swinging in the church

choir, and tossed the shadows to and fro in time to its

oscillations. The clock was hard on ten when the patrol went by

with halberds and a lantern, beating their hands; and they saw

nothing suspicious about the cemetery of St. John.

Yet there was a small house, backed up against the cemetery wall,

which was still awake, and awake to evil purpose, in that snoring