"This pick goes in as easy," said Sargent, "as if it were cutting cheese. Wonder where Alden is now? Ha! ha! wouldn't he make Rome howl if he knew what we were doing? But, d--n him! he always looked upon me as if I was a scoundrel; now I'll be even with him. There, how is that? Hand me that other spade." Mannis, doing as requested, said: "Be careful, Sargent, and throw the dirt where the grave-digger pitched it. So the old man weakened, eh?--if he knew that you pocketed his letter he would be apt to send you adrift. His pretty daughter is his pride, his very life--Ah, Sargent, she is a darling, and I feel rather sorry for her, for she will cry her pretty eyes out upon learning George Alden will never return. Careful, Sargent; the earth is falling back into the grave. Here, take another drink; egad! a little good spirits is required to keep the evil spirits away. I don't just like this job; but virtue will have its reward, and such patterns as you and I will not be forgotten, eh?"--and both men laughed, as the devil also must have done if he was present, as probably he was. For a full half-hour they toiled on, until they stood at least three feet deep in the grave. Slowly the mound of earth rose about them and the scene became animated. In the distance was heard the rumbling of thunder, the dark clouds overhead becoming blacker and more dense, while the men, unaccustomed to manual labor, paused at intervals to rest. Nearer and nearer they came to the box and its occupant, until at last Sargent's spade struck the wood, sending back a dull, hollow thud, startling both men. "Gracious, Sargent! that frightened me, it came so sudden; but it will not be long before we shall have this ugly business finished." "It startled me too. This is a pretty tough job, Mannis." "That's so; but remember it will make you cashier of the bank." "Yes, that will pay--but see here, Mannis, it's mighty slippery business after all." "We have no time to discuss the matter now--come, let's to work; ten minutes of lively shovelling will have the box clean as a whistle." Both men resumed their labor, shovelful after shovelful of dirt was thrown up on top of the mound already formed, until they stood upon the cover of the box. "Lay the shovels outside, Sargent, and take another drink. There, that will set you up. Here's at you!" and he turned the bottle and drank deep from its throat. Taking a screw-driver from his pocket, and turning the rays of his dark lantern into the grave, Mannis began removing the screws from the cover. It was but the work of a few moments, when, the cover carefully laid outside the grave, the screw-driver began its work on the lid of the coffin. As the corpse was exposed to view, Mannis touched its cold, clammy face. A thrill of horror went through his frame, causing him to start and step heavily upon Sargent's toes, their owner standing behind him on the lower part of the coffin-lid.