eat was set out on a table, and the teapot was on the hearth. One stick
had broken in two. The smoking brands stood up in the corners. There was
just a flicker of flame in the candlestick. It went out while I was
looking. I saw that the old women were dozing. I opened the outside-door
softly, and stood in the porch. There was a latch-string to the inner
one. As soon as I pulled it the door opened. In my agitation I forgot
there was a step up, and so stumbled forward into the room. They both
started to their feet, holding on by the pommels of the chairs. They
were frightened.

"What are you here for?" I gasped out.

"Watching with the dead!" whispered one of them.

"Who?"

They looked at each other; they knew me then.

I remember their eyes turning towards the front-room door, of placing my
hand on the latch, of standing by a table between the front-windows, of
a coffin resting on the white cloth, of people crowding about me,--but
nothing more that night. Nothing distinctly for weeks and months. Some
confused idea I have of being led about at a funeral, of being told I
must sit with the mourners, of the bearers taking off their hats, of
being held back from the grave. But a black cloud rests over all. I
cannot pierce it. I have no wish to. I can't even tell whether I really
took her cold hand in mine, and bid her good-bye, or whether that was
one of the terrible dreams which came to me every night. I know that at
last I refused to go to bed, but walked all night in the fields and
woods.