to your ladyship's orders, I dug up the
flower-beds of the family vault, dusted the vault and the--the coffins
(added he, trembling) inside. Me and John Sexton did it together, and
polished up the plate quite beautiful."

"For Heaven's sake, don't allude to it," cried the widow, turning pale.

"Well, my lady, I locked the door, came away, and found in my hurry--for
I wanted to beat two little boys what was playing at marbles on Alderman
Paunch's monyment--I found, my lady, I'd forgot my cane.

"I couldn't get John Sexton to go back with me till this morning, and I
didn't like to go alone, and so we went this morning; and what do you
think I found? I found his honor's coffin turned round, and the cane
broke in two. Here's the cane!"

"Ah!" screamed the widow, "take it away,--take it away!"

"Well, what does this prove," said Sister Anne, "but that somebody moved
the coffin, and broke the cane?"

"Somebody! _who's somebody?_" said the beadle, staring round about him.
And all of a sudden he started back with a tremendous roar, that made
the ladies scream and all the glasses on the sideboard jingle, and
cried, "_That's the man!_"

He pointed to the portrait of Bluebeard, which stood over the jingling
glasses on the sideboard. "That's the man I saw last night walking round
the vault, as I'm a living sinner. I saw him a-walking round and round,
and, when I went up to speak to him, I'm blessed if he didn't go in at
the iron gate, which opened afore him like--like winking, and then in
at the vault door, which I'd double-locked, my lady, and bolted inside,
I'll take my oath on it!"

"Perhaps you had given him the key?" suggested Sister Anne.

"It's never been out of my pocket. Here it is," cried the beadle; "I'll
have no more to do with it." And he flung down the ponderous key, amidst
another scream from Widow Bluebeard.

"At what hour did you see him?" gasped she.

"At twelve o'clock, of course."

"It must have been at that very hour," said she, "I heard the voice."

"What voice?" said Anne.

"A voice that called, 'Fatima! Fatima! Fatima!' three times, as plain as
ever voice did."

"It didn't speak to me," said the beadle; "it only nodded its head, and
wagged its head and beard."

"W--w--was it a _bl--ue beard_?" said the widow.

"Powder-blue, ma'am, as I've a soul to save!"

Dr. Drench was of course instantly sent for. But what are the
medicaments of the apothecary in a case where the grave gives up its