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Updated: May 3, 2025
I caught up the bench on which I had been sitting, and, dragging it forward, I mounted it and stood now with my breast on a level with the coffin-lid. I laid hands on it and found it unfastened. Without thought or care of how I went about the thing, I raised it and let it crash over to the ground.
O'Neill grew into a fine, hearty, brave lad, not at all conceited or haughty in his ways, though he was proud, he scarcely knew why, of his Irish name, always treasured up his locket of gold, and often declared that he could remember the head from which that hair was cut his mother's and how he had seen it shut away under the coffin-lid, the very day that his nurse set out with him for London.
When at last the services were over, and the curious ones had taken their last look at the dead, and the undertaker came forward to close the coffin-lid, her mind, which had been strained to its utmost, gave way, and not realizing what she did or meant to do, she arose suddenly, and gliding swiftly past her father, stepped to the side of the coffin, and throwing back her heavy crape vail; stooped and kissed the eyelids of her brother, saying as she did so: "Dear Robbie, can you see me now, and do you know what I am going to do?"
Billy added two wedges to those already hammered into the saw-cut, then, with the sledge, he drove them home and finished his task. The sorrowful strokes rang hollow and mournful over the land, sadder to Barron's ear than fall of earth-clod on coffin-lid.
Suddenly, as in a last attempt to save Bathsheba from, at any rate, immediate anguish, he looked again, as he had looked before, at the chalk writing upon the coffin-lid. The scrawl was this simple one, "FANNY ROBIN AND CHILD." Gabriel took his handkerchief and carefully rubbed out the two latter words, leaving visible the inscription "FANNY ROBIN" only.
I was roused from this reverie by the hollow sound of the clay as it fell dull and heavy on the coffin-lid.
When to the sound of martial music Sarudine's remains were borne to the churchyard, Yourii from his window watched the sad, imposing procession. He saw the horses draped in black, and the deceased officer's cap that lay on the coffin-lid. There were flowers in profusion, and many female mourners, Yourii was deeply grieved at the sight.
"By the Death of Christ! the coffin is empty!" It was the roar of a beast enraged, and it was succeeded by a heavy crash as he let fall the coffin-lid; a second later a still louder sound awoke the night-echoes of that silent place. In a burst of maniacal frenzy he had caught the coffin itself a buffet of his mighty fist, and hurled it from its trestles.
Let me write here what John Greylston's tongue refused to say. Those thoughts, indeed, had done him good; they were tender, self-upbraiding, loving thoughts, mingled, all the while, with touching memories, mournful glimpses of the past the days of his sore bereavement, when the coffin-lid was first shut down over Ellen Day's sweet face, and he was smitten to the earth with anguish.
And I question whether anything more fitting could be placed on a tomb than the effigy of the dead as we saw them just before the coffin-lid closed down; as we would give our all to see them but one little moment longer; as they continue to exist for our fancy within the grave; for to any but morbid feelings the beloved can never suffer decay.
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