XXIII.

His crime complete, scarce knowing what he did, (So goes the tale,) beneath the altar there In the high church the stiffening corpse he hid, And then, to 'scape that suffocating air, Like a scared ghoul out of the porch he slid; But his strained eyes saw bloodspots everywhere, And ghastly faces thrust themselves between His soul and hopes of peace with blasting mien.