"But, I repeat the question," Edward began once more, "what does all this mean? I left you a short time ago in friendly conversation. I come back and find you both armed--both violently agitated--and M. D'Effernay, at least, speaking incoherently. What do you mean by 'proving it?'--to what do you allude?" At this moment, before any answer could be made, a man came out of the house with a pick-ax and shovel on his shoulder, and advancing toward the rector, said respectfully, "I am quite ready, sir, if you have the key of the church-yard." It was now the captain's turn to look anxious: "What are you going to do, you surely don't intend--?" but, as he spoke, the rector interrupted him. "This gentleman is very desirous to see the place where his friend lies buried." "But these preparations, what do they mean?" "I will tell you," said Edward, in a voice and tone that betrayed the deepest emotion, "I have a holy duty to perform. I must cause the coffin to be opened." "How, what?" screamed D'Effernay, once again. "Never--I will never permit such a thing." "But, sir," the old man spoke, in a tone of calm decision, contrasting wonderfully with the violence of him whom he addressed, "you have no possible right to interfere. If this gentleman wishes it, and I accede to the proposition, no one can prevent us from doing as we would." "I tell you I will not suffer it," continued D'Effernay, with the same frightful agitation. "Stir at your peril," he cried, turning sharply round upon the grave-digger, and holding a pistol to his head; but the captain pulled his arm away, to the relief of the frightened peasant. "M. D'Effernay," he said, "your conduct for the last half-hour has been most unaccountable--most unreasonable." "Come, come," interposed Edward, "let us say no more on the subject; but let us be going," he addressed the rector; "we will not detain these gentlemen much longer." He made a step toward the church-yard, but D'Effernay clutched his arm, and, with an impious oath, "you shall not stir," he said; "that grave shall not be opened." Edward shook him off, with a look of silent hatred, for now indeed all his doubts were confirmed. D'Effernay saw that Wensleben was resolved, and a deadly pallor spread itself over his features, and a shudder passed visibly over his frame.