At the same moment, Welbeck seemed to recover from his reverie.
"How is this ?" said he.

"Why do we linger here?
Every moment is precious.

We cannot dig for him a grave with our hands.

Wait here, while I go in search of a spade." Saying this, he snatched the candle from my hand, and hasted away.

My eye followed the light as its gleams shifted their place upon the walls and ceilings, and, gradually vanishing, gave place to unrespited gloom.
This proceeding was so unexpected and abrupt, that I had no time to remonstrate against it.