The church clock presently struck ten and a wave of excitement rippled round the rope. People swept this way and that, as people will. Shouts and laughter rose. The grass, trampled under many feet, emitted its own odour, and from the open earth a faint smell came. The sky was clear and a few stars twinkled. Light still hung westward and the great bulk of Lydford Castle loomed square and black against it. A dance of many flames suddenly flashed through the grey gloom of summer night. The dew answered, and the earth was streaked and shot with points of fire. Above the smoky effulgence of the torches, the sky appeared to grow very dark. Everything outside this radiance of orange flame disappeared and was lost. Only within the glare the procession appeared and moved forward--a medley of lurid lights and ink black shadows. "They're coming, they're coming!" cried many voices, and the solitary policeman, opening the rope, struggled to make a way for them. Agg, Lethbridge, and others, seeing his efforts futile, lent their aid, and presently into the ring the performers slowly came with torches waving above them. From the shed which they had left there echoed a hollow reverberation, repeated at intervals of half a minute. This represented the lich bell. A hymn rose as the procession approached, and the shrill treble voices of six boys singing together sounded thin and strange under the night. The choir, in long white smocks, led the way. Then came six men with torches; and then Mr. Huggins and Mr. Taverner appeared as mourners. More torches followed, and Jarratt Weekes next played his part in a parson's gown with a broad black stole hung over it. On one side of him walked a boy with a book; on the other side a boy carried a tall candle. The huge shape of the 'Infant' in black, with a hat-band streaming behind him, followed; and at his side walked Joe Tapson, similarly attired. The disparity in their sizes created much merriment. Into the ring they came. The boys took their places between the graves; the men stuck their torches into sconces arranged for them upon poles. Then attention was paid to the coffins. Jarratt opened the book and the boy with the big candle held it aloft, so that the light fell upon the page. All was done with absolute order and decorum. The spectators, not the performers, threatened to break the peace. A great sheaf of light rose up into the darkness; a babel of voices echoed. Laughter and shouts resounded round the ring, and under the flickering fire the people searched each other's faces and called out greetings. An effect impish and demonian danced upon every countenance. Flame and darkness played at hood-man-blind together, and now features were distorted, and now whole bodies loomed huge or shrank and shrivelled under the light. Mrs. Weekes observed this sinister transformation. "Never seed such a shocking sight," she said to Philip.