The Argosy — page 284: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

5 270 The Key of the Church. were paid for by the parish ; but he set great store by them, and would have denied me one if he could. Not seeing his way clear to do this, he turned away, muttering to himself. I took my fingers off the keys —for I had been playing while I talked to him—and followed. Bumford went out of: the church, shutting the door with a bang, and I proceeded to search for the candlestick. That was soon found: it always stood on the shelf: but it had no candle in it, and I opened the candle-box to take one out. ill the light that came in was from the open slits in the belfry above. The next thing was to find the matches. Groping about quietly with my hands on the shelf, for fear of knocking down some article or another, and wondering where on earth the match-box had gone to, I was startled bya groan. A loud, dismal groan, coming from the middle of the church. It nearly made me start out of my skin. My shirt-sleeves went damp. The ghosts of the buried dead are popularly supposed to haunt the churches at night, down with us. ‘‘T¢ must have been the pulpit creaking,” said I, gravely to myself. ‘¢ Oh, here’s the match An awful groan! Another! Three groans altogether. I stood as still as death; calling up the recollection that God was with me inside the church as well as out of it. Fnghtened I was, and it is of no use to deny it. ‘“T wonder what the devil is to be the ending of this?” The unorthodox words brought a reassurance; for dead people don’t talk, let alone their natural objection (as one must suppose) to mention the arch-enemy. The tones were free and distinct ; _ ——. I knew them for Fred Westerbrook’s. ‘“ Fred, is that you?” I asked in a whisper, as I went forward. No sound; no answer. ‘Fred ! It’s only L” Not:a word or a breath. I struck a match, and lighted a candle. ‘Vou need not be afraid, Fred. Come along. I'll do anything I can for you. Don’t you know me ?—Johnny Ludlow.” ‘For the love of heaven put that light out, Johnny!” he said, feeling it perhaps useless to hold out, or else deciding to trust me, as he came down the aisle in a stooping position, so that the pews might hide him from the windows. And I put it out. ‘“‘T thought you had gone out of the church with old Bumford,” said he. ‘I heard you both come away from the organ, and then the door was banged, leaving the church to silence.” “JT was searching after the candle and matches. When did you come here, Fred? How did you get in?” ‘‘T got in last night. Is there much of a row, Johnny?” “Pretty well. How came you to do it?” COMIC OOOKS.EO _