He did not know how far he had walked, when at last one of them cried out to him, “Stop here!” He stood, and they all gathered round him.

“Do you see those withered trees over there?” says the old boy to him again.  “Teampoll-Demus is among those trees, and you must go in there by yourself, for we cannot follow you or go with you.  We must remain here.  Go on boldly.”

Teig looked from him, and he saw a high wall that was in places half broken down, and an old grey church on the inside of the wall, and about a dozen withered old trees scattered here and there round it.  There was neither leaf nor twig on any of them, but their bare crooked branches were stretched out like the arms of an angry man when he threatens.  He had no help for it, but was obliged to go forward.  He was a couple of hundred yards from the church, but he walked on, and never looked behind him until he came to the gate of the churchyard.  The old gate was thrown down, and he had no difficulty in entering.  He turned then to see if any of the little people were following him, but there came a cloud over the moon, and the night became so dark that he could see nothing.  He went into the churchyard, and he walked up the old grassy pathway leading to the church.  When he reached the door, he found it locked.  The door was large and strong, and he did not know what to do.  At last he drew out his knife with difficulty, and stuck it in the wood to try if it were not rotten, but it was not.

“Now,” said he to himself, “I have no more to do; the door is shut, and I can’t open it.”

Before the words were rightly shaped in his own mind, a voice in his ear said to him, “Search for the key on the top of the door, or on the wall.”

He started.  “Who is that speaking to me?” he cried, turning round; but he saw no one.  The voice said in his ear again, “Search for the key on the top of the door, or on the wall.”

“What’s that?” said he, and the sweat running from his forehead; “who spoke to me?”

“It’s I, the corpse, that spoke to you!” said the voice.

“Can you talk?” said Teig.

“Now and again,” said the corpse.

Teig searched for the key, and he found it on the top of the wall.  He was too much frightened to say any more, but he opened the door wide, and as quickly as he could, and he went in, with the corpse on his back.  It was as dark as pitch inside, and poor Teig began to shake and tremble.

“Light the candle,” said the corpse.

Teig put his hand in his pocket, as well as he was able, and drew out a flint and steel.  He struck a spark out of it, and lit a burnt rag he had in his pocket.  He blew it until it made a flame, and he looked round him.  The church was very ancient, and part of the wall was broken down.  The windows were blown in or cracked, and the timber of the seats were rotten.  There were six or seven old iron candlesticks left there still, and in one of these