The horse paused beside the obelisk. In the east the sky was lightening gently, a pearlish, pre-dawn luminescence that made the people of the graveyard uncomfortable and made them think about returning to their comfortable homes. Even so, not a one of them moved. They were watching the Lady on the Grey, each of them half-excited, half-scared. The dead are not superstitious, not as a rule, but they watched her as a Roman Augur might have watched the sacred crows circle, seeking wisdom, seeking a clue.
And she spoke to them.
In a voice like the chiming of a hundred tiny silver bells she said only, “The dead should have charity.” And she smiled.
. . .
Mother Slaughter and Josiah Worthington, Bart., accompanied Mr. Owens to the crypt of the old chapel, and they told Mrs. Owens the news.
She seemed unsurprised by the miracle. “That’s right,” she said, “Some of them dun’t have a ha’porth of sense in their heads. But she does. Of course she does.”
Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book (HarperCollins, 2008), 30, 31.
Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
Links of Interest
Gaiman’s Website about himself and his writing
H.G. Wells, War of the Worlds