In a little depression between the mounds of two graves lay a plain coffin of stained wood.It was closed, but an attempt to move it showed that it was not empty.A nearer inspection revealed that the lid was not screwed down in the usual manner, but hastily fastened with nails.Dr.Lynn and Gerald looked at each other.
There was something mysterious in the presence of this coffin above ground.
"Has there been a funeral--interrupted--or anything of that kind?"asked Gerald.
"Nothing of the sort.I wish Bolan were here.He might have something to say about it."Bolan was the ***ton.Gerald knew where he lived, within a stone's throw of the spot, and volunteered to fetch him.Dr.Lynn looked all over the sinister black box, but no plate or mark of any kind rewarded his search.Meanwhile, young Ffrench sped along the lower road to Bolan's house.
The ***ton was in, just preparing for a smoke in company with the local blacksmith, when Gerald entered with the news of the uncanny discovery in the churchyard.Eleven young Bolans, grouped around the turf fire, drank in the intelligence and instantly scattered to spread the report in eleven different directions.A tale confided to the Bolan household was confided to rumor.
Blacksmith and ***ton rose together and accompanied Gerald to the spot where he had left Dr.Lynn, but Dr.Lynn was no longer alone.
The rector had heard steps in the road; it was a constabulary patrol on its round, and the old gentleman's hail had brought two policemen to his side.There they stood, profoundly puzzled and completely in the dark, except for the light given by their bull's-eye lanterns.But the glare of these lanterns had been seen from the road.Some people shunned them, as lights in a graveyard should always be shunned; but others, hearing voices, had suffered their curiosity to overcome their misgivings, and were gathered around, silent, open-mouthed, wondering.So stood the group when Gerald and his companions joined it.
In reply to general questions Bolan was dumb.In reply to particular interrogations he did not hesitate to admit that he was "clane bate." Gerald, seeing that no one had ventured to touch the grim casket, hinted that it would be well to open it.There was a dubious murmur from the crowd and a glance at the constables as the visible representatives of the powers that be.The officers tightened their belts and seemed undecided, and Dr.Lynn took the lead with a clear, distinct order, "Take off the lid, Andy," he said.
"An' why not? Isn't his riverince a magistrate? Go in, Andy, yer sowl ye, and off wid it." Thus the crowd.
So encouraged, the blacksmith stepped forward.Without much difficulty he burst the insecure fastenings and removed the lid.
The constables turned their bull's-eyes on the inside of the coffin.The crowd pressed forward, Gerald in the front rank.
There was an occupant.A young girl, white with the pallor of death, lay under the light of the lanterns.The face was as placid and composed as if she had just fallen asleep, and it was a handsome face with regular features and strongly defined black eyebrows.The form was fully dressed, and the clothes seemed expensive and fashionable.A few raven locks straggled out from beneath a lace scarf which was tied around the head.The hands, crossed below the breast, were neatly gloved.There she lay, a mystery, for not one of those present had ever seen her face before.
Murmurs of wonder and sympathy went up from the bystanders."Ah, the poor thing!" "Isn't she purty?" "So young, too!" "Musha, it's the beautiful angel she is be this time.""Does anyone know her?" asked the rector; and then, as there was no reply, he put a question that was destined for many a day to agitate the neighborhood of Drim, and ring through the length and breadth of Ireland--"How did she come here?"The investigation made at the moment was unsatisfactory.The grass on all sides had been trampled and pressed down by the curious throng, and such tracks as the coffin-bearers had made were completely obliterated.It was clearly a case for the coroner, and when that official arrived and took charge the crowd slowly dispersed.
The inquest furnished no new light.Medical testimony swept away the theory of murder, for death was proved to have resulted from organic disease of the heart.The coffin might have been placed where it was found at any time within thirty-six hours, for it could not be shown that anyone had crossed the churchyard path since the morning previous, and indeed a dozen might have passed that way without noticing that which Gerald only discovered through the accident of having looked back at the moment that he mounted the wall.Still, it did not seem likely that an object of such size could have lain long unnoticed, and the doctors were of opinion that the woman had been alive twenty-four hours before her body was found.
In the absence of suspicion of any crime--and the medical examination furnished none--interest centered in the question of identity; and this was sufficiently puzzling.
The story got into the newspapers--into the Dublin papers;afterwards into the great London journals, and was widely discussed under the title of "The Drim Churchyard Mystery," but all this publicity and a thorough investigation of the few available clues led to nothing.No one was missing; widely distributed photographs of the deceased found no recognition; and the quest was finally abandoned even in the immediate neighborhood.The unknown dead slept beneath the very sod on which they had found her.
