“This is a rum go,” he remarked, diffusing a vinous aroma into the atmosphere of the carriage. “I really did think I had paid my last visit to Mr. Crile. But there’s no such thing as certainty in this world.” He chuckled softly and continued: “A bit different this journey from the last. No hatbands this time, and no Sunday-school children. Lord! When I think of those kids piping round the open grave, and that our dear departed brother was wanted by the police so badly that they were actually going to dig him up, it makes me smile, it does, indeed.”
In effect, it made him cackle; and as Miller had not heard the account of the funeral, it was repeated for his benefit in great detail. Then the anecdotal ball was set rolling in a fresh direction by one or two questions from Thorndyke, with the result that the entire history of Usher’s attendance on the deceased, including the misdeeds of Mrs. Pepper, was retailed with such a wealth of circumstance that the narration lasted until we stopped at the cemetery gate.
Our arrival was not unexpected, for as we got out of the carriage, two gentlemen approached the entrance, and one of them unlocked a gate to admit us. He appeared to be the official in charge of the cemetery, while the other, to whom he introduced us, was no less a person than Dr. Garroll, the Medical Officer of Health.
“The Home Office license,” the latter explained, “directs that the removal shall be carried out under my supervision and to my satisfaction; very necessary in a populous neighbourhood like this.”
“Very necessary,” Thorndyke agreed gravely.
“I have provided a supply of fresh ground lime, according to the directions,” Dr. Garroll continued; “and as a further precaution, I have brought with me a large formalin spray. That, I think, should satisfy all sanitary requirements.”
“It should certainly be sufficient,” Thorndyke agreed, “to meet the requirements of the present case. Has the excavation been commenced yet?”
“Oh, yes,” replied the cemetery official. “It was started quite early, and has been carried down nearly to the full depth; but I thought that the coffin had better not be uncovered until you arrived. I have had a canvas screen put up round the grave so that the proceedings may be quite private. We can send the labourers outside before we unscrew the coffin-lid. You said, Superintendent, that you were anxious to avoid any kind of publicity; and I have warned the men to say nothing to anyone about the affair.”
“Quite right,” said Miller. “We don’t want this to get into the papers, in case—well, in any case.”
“Exactly, sir,” agreed the official, who was evidently bursting with curiosity himself. “Exactly. Here is the screen. If you will step inside, the excavation can be proceeded with.”
We passed inside the screen, where we found four men reposefully contemplating a coil of stout rope, a basket, attached to another rope, and a couple of spades. The grave yawned in the middle of the enclosure, flanked on one side by the mound of newly dug earth and on the other by a tub of lime and a Winchester quart bottle fitted with a spray nozzle and a large rubber bellows.
“You can get on with the digging now,” said the official; whereupon one of the men was let down into the grave, together with a spade and the basket, and fell to work briskly. Then Dr. Garroll directed one of the other men to sprinkle in a little lime; which he did, with a pleased smile and so little discretion that the man below was seen to stop digging, and after looking up indignantly, take off his cap, shake it violently and ostentatiously dust his shoulders with it.
When about a dozen basketfuls of earth had been hoisted up, a hollow, woody sound accompanying the thrusts of the spade announced that the coffin had been reached. Thereupon more lime was sprinkled in, and Dr. Garroll, picking up the formalin bottle, sprayed vigorously into the cavity until a plaintive voice from below—accompanied by an unnaturally loud sneeze—was heard to declare that “he’d ’ave brought his umbrella if he’d knowed he was goin’ to be squirted at.” A few minutes’ more work exposed the coffin and enabled us to read the confirmatory inscription on the plate. Then the rope slings were let down and with some difficulty worked into position by the excavator below; who, when he had completed his task, climbed to the surface and grasped one end of a sling in readiness to haul on it.
“It’s a good deal easier letting ’em down than hoisting ’em up,” Usher remarked, as the final shower of lime descended and the men began to haul; “but poor old Crile oughtn’t to take much lifting. There was nothing of him but skin and bone.”
However this might be, it took the united efforts of the four men to draw the coffin up to the surface and slew it round clear of the yawning grave. But at last this was accomplished, and it was lifted, for convenience of inspection, on to one of the mounds of newly dug earth.
“Now,” said the presiding official, “you men had better go outside and wait down at the end of the path until you are wanted again:” an order that was received with evident disfavour and complied with rather sulkily. As soon as they were gone, our friend produced a couple of screwdrivers, with which he and Miller proceeded in a very workmanlike manner to extract the screws, while Dr. Garroll enveloped them in a cloud of spray, and Thorndyke, Usher, and I stood apart to keep out of range. It was not a long process; indeed, it came to an end sooner than I had expected, for the first intimation that I received of its completion was a loud exclamation (consisting of
