You should have said, that the wind blew without in fierce
gusts, the weathercocks screeched on the roofs, and caused you to
dread that the ghost of the defunct was coming down the chimney; large
flakes of snow were rushing through the half-open door; a solitary
rushlight dimly lit up the chamber, and cast frightful shadows upon
the wall."
"Well; but the night was fine, and there was not a breath of wind."
"What about that? A little wind, more or less, a weathercock or so,
some drops of rain, or a few flakes of snow, do not materially detract
from the truth, whilst they heighten the color of the picture."
"And if some lightning tearing through the clouds were added?"
"Yes, that would most undoubtedly increase the effect; but go on with
your story."
"I knew Phil to be an artful dodger, and was determined not to be
foiled by a mere trick, so I laid hold of a lantern and closely
examined the walls and flooring. My investigation was successful, for
just under the coffin I detected traces of a trap-door."
"'Well, my good woman, what have you got down there?" inquired the
lieutenant.
"'Is it underground, ye mane, yer honor? divil a hail's there, if it
isn't the rats.'
"'Well, just remove the coffin a little aside; we shall see if we
cannot pepper some of the rats for you.'
"Here the old woman appealed to a vast number of saints, and protested
against Kathleen's remains being disturbed.
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