om Knollingwood. At the first convenient moment Lord
Uplandtowers went thither and obtained an interview with the said
gentleman. The schoolmaster was much gratified by a visit from such an
influential neighbour, and was ready to communicate anything that his
lordship desired to know.

After some general conversation on the school and its progress, the
visitor observed that he believed the schoolmaster had once travelled a
good deal with the unfortunate Mr. Willowes, and had been with him on the
occasion of his accident. He, Lord Uplandtowers, was interested in
knowing what had really happened at that time, and had often thought of
inquiring. And then the Earl not only heard by word of mouth as much as
he wished to know, but, their chat becoming more intimate, the
schoolmaster drew upon paper a sketch of the disfigured head, explaining
with bated breath various details in the representation.

'It was very strange and terrible!' said Lord Uplandtowers, taking the
sketch in his hand. 'Neither nose nor ears!'

A poor man in the town nearest to Knollingwood Hall, who combined the art
of sign-painting with ingenious mechanical occupations, was sent for by
Lord Uplandtowers to come to the Hall on a day in that week when the
Countess had gone on a short visit to her parents. His employer made the
man understand that the business in which his assistance was demanded was
to be considered private, and money insured the observance of this
request. The lock of the cupboard was picked, and the ingenious mechanic
and painter, assisted by the schoolmaster's sketch, which Lord
Uplandtowers had put in his pocket, set to work upon the god-like
countenance of the statue under my lord's direction. What the fire had
maimed in the original the chisel maimed in the copy. It was a fiendish
disfigurement, ruthlessly carried out, and was rendered still more
shocking by being tinted to the hues of life, as life had been after the
wreck.

Six hours after, when the workman was gone, Lord Uplandtowers looked upon
the result, and smiled grimly, and said:

'A statue should represent a man as he appeared in life, and that's as he
appeared. Ha! ha! But 'tis done to good purpose, and not idly.'

He locked the door of the closet with a skeleton key, and went his way to
fetch the Countess home.

That night she slept, but he kept awake. According to the tale, she
murmured soft words in her dream; and he knew that the tender converse of
h