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"That's queer too," said I. "What's queer?" He asked it sharply. "Why, to find a gardener cox'n of a life-boat." "He followed the sea in early life. But I'll tell you what is queer, and that's his last wish. His particular desire was that I, and I alone, should screw down the coffin. He had Trudgeon the carpenter up to measure him, and begged this of me in Trudgeon's presence and the doctor's.
I listened while the sound of their footsteps died away: Trudgeon's down the hill towards the Porth, the Vicar's up towards the church-town. After this I had some painful minutes. As they dragged by, an abominable curiosity took hold of me, an itch to open the door of the shed, strike a match, and have a look at the dead face I had never seen.
But I lifted it inside, shut the door upon it, and stood wiping my forehead, while the Vicar closed the window cautiously, drew the blind, and pressed-to the clasp. A minute later I heard him calling from the front, "Mr. Trudgeon Mr. Trudgeon"; and Trudgeon's hob-nailed boots ascending the steps.
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