"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us at all."

     "I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver."

     "Listen!"

     The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled sound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard.

     "Look! See there!" whispered Tom. "What is it?"

     "It's devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful."

     Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a shudder:

     "It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners! Can you pray?"

     "I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now I lay me down to sleep, I--'"

     "Sh!"

     "What is it, Huck?"