Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

her brass candlestick glittering.
There was the noise of wheels. Outside in the darkness of the
street below Paul could see horses and a black vehicle, one lamp,
and a few pale faces; then some men, miners, all in their shirt-sleeves,
seemed to struggle in the obscurity. Presently two men appeared,
bowed beneath a great weight. It was Morel and his neighbour.
"Steady!" called Morel, out of breath.
He and his fellow mounted the steep garden step, heaved into
the candlelight with their gleaming coffin-end. Limbs of other men
were seen struggling behind. Morel and Burns, in front, staggered;
the great dark weight swayed.
"Steady, steady!" cried Morel, as if in pain.
All the six bearers were up in the small garden, holding the
great coffin aloft. There were three more steps to the door.
The yellow lamp of the carriage shone alone
down the black road.
"Now then!" said Morel.
The coffin swayed, the men began to mount the three steps
with their load. Annie's candle flickered, and she whimpered
as the first men appeared, and the limbs and bowed heads of six
men struggled to climb into the room, bearing the coffin that rode
like sorrow on their living flesh.
"Oh, my son--my son!" Mrs. Morel sang softly, and each time
the coffin swung to the unequal climbing of the men: "Oh, my son--my
son--my son!"
"Mother!" Paul whimpered, his hand round her waist.
She did not hear.
"Oh, my son--my son!" she repeated.
Paul saw drops of sweat fall from his father's brow.
Six men were in the room--six coatless men, with yielding,
struggling limbs, filling the room and knocking against the furniture.
The coffin veered, and was gently lowered on to the chairs.
The sweat fell from Morel's face on its boards.
"My word, he's a weight!" said a man, and the five miners sighed,