" "Sir Theodore," said
the Saint, "will not blame you for following me. I assure you he will
not." "But then," said Larry--"Follow me!" cried the Saint, in a hollow
voice, and casting upon him his stony eye, drew poor Larry after him, as
the bridal guest was drawn by the lapidary glance of the Ancient Mariner;
or, as Larry himself afterwards expressed it, "as a jaw tooth is wrinched
out of an ould woman with a pair of pinchers." The Saint strode before
him in silence, not in the least incommoded by the stones and rubbish,
which at every step sadly contributed to the discomfiture of Larry's
shins, who followed his marble conductor into a low vault, situated at
the west end of the church. The path lay through coffins piled up on each
side of the way in various degrees of decomposition; and, excepting that
the solid footsteps of the saintly guide, as they smote heavily on the
floor of stone, broke the deadly silence, all was still. Stumbling and
staggering along, directed only by the casual glimpses of light afforded
by the moon, where it broke through the dilapidated roof of the vault,
and served to discover only sights of woe, Larry followed.
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