This, however, was a proposition that Zedekiah would not concur in; and it required all the arguments that Abigail could muster, independent of a forcible and highly-coloured representation of the danger that threatened them, and which might be so easily averted, before he would engage to carry it into effect. Even when he did give a reluctant consent, he had nearly marred all, in Abigail’s estimation, by setting forward for the stable with his right foot, instead of taking the first step with his left. This mistake brought them to a stand, and, in order to render it of no effect, it became necessary, according to the rules which Abigail followed, that they should turn round three times, and then set forward anew. Having made these gyrations, they prepared to proceed, Zedekiah going first, and Abigail following with the poker. Moving along in this order, they had just gained the kitchen-door, when a loud crack, like the report of a pistol, which came on them from their rear, brought them both to a halt. The report emanated from the fire, and was caused by a large log of wood, which had been for some time consuming, splitting in twain, and discharging a small fragment into the middle of the room. Some people would have considered this a natural consequence of the wood splitting, and would have had no notion, in their views of cause and effect, that it could refer to, or foretoken, a coming event; but, fortunately for her design, Abigail was not so simple. She knew well, from a long experience of such matters, that it portended something of moment, and, therefore, directly she became aware that the noise emanated from the fire, and that it had been caused in the manner described, she hastened to gain possession of the small fragment of wood which had been shot forth. It was lying in the middle of the room, and seemed, on a cursory view, to be of a shape perfectly unmeaning, and to have no resemblance to any one thing in the whole world. Abigail, however, did not view it with ordinary eyes, and she quickly discerned that its shape was but too indicant of its melancholy import. “Woe’s me!” she exclaimed: “’tis a coffin!” “A coffin!” cried Zedekiah, in ecstasy. “Is’t for me?” “By cock and pie, I think it be!” answered Abigail, very willing to take the impending calamity off herself. Zedekiah, far from being dejected, was quite elated by the prospect thus opened, and received the reputed coffin from Abigail with the greatest eagerness. “I am to be at Cummer Griffin’s burying to-day,” he said. “What a goodly corpse the cummer makes!”