'Beautiful chapel this, Captain Lake--beautiful chapel, Sir,' said the
attorney, again looking round with a dreary smile of admiration. But
though his accents were engaging and he smiled--of course, a Sabbath-day
smile--yet Captain Lake perceived that it was not the dove's but the
rat's eyes that were doing duty under that tall bald brow.

'Solemn thoughts, Sir--solemn thoughts, Captain Lake--silent mentors,
eloquent monitors!' And he waved his long lank hand toward the monumental
groups.

'Yes,' said Lake, in the same mocking tone, that was low and sweet, and
easily mistaken for something more amiable. 'You and they go capitally
together--so solemn, and eloquent, and godly--capital fellows! _I_'m not
half good enough for such company--and the place is growing rather
cold--is not it?'

'A great many Wylders, Sir--a great many _Wylders_.' And the attorney
dropped his voice, and paused at this emphasis, pointing a long finger
toward the surrounding effigies.

Captain Lake, after his custom, glared a single full look upon the
attorney, sudden as the flash of a pair of guns from their embrasures in
the dark; and he said quietly, with a wave of his cane in the same
direction--

'Yes, a precious lot of Wylders.'

'Is there a _Wylder_ vault here, Captain Brandon Lake?'

'Hanged if I know!--what the devil's that to you or me, Sir?' answered