stened by a screw, and the chimney was barred with iron. It
seemed that he had hermetically sealed himself in, and then killed
himself. But he had been in boisterous spirits. Also, though his own
razor was found near his right hand, the fingers of his left hand were
cut to the bone. Then the memorandum-book in which his bets were noted
was nowhere to be found. Besides, he had written two letters to a
friend, saying how profitable he had found his visit to Bartram-Haugh,
and that he held Uncle Silas's I O U's for a frightful sum; and although
my uncle stoutly alleged he did not owe him a guinea, there had scarcely
been time in one evening for him to win back so much money. In a moment
the storm was up, and although my uncle met it bravely, he failed to
overcome it, and became a social outcast, in spite of all my father's
efforts.

And now I was to rehabilitate him before the world, and accordingly all
preparations were made for my departure from Knowl; and at last the
morning came--a day of partings, a day of novelty, and regrets.

I remember we passed a gypsy bivouac on our journey, with fires alight,
on the edge of a great, heathy moor. I had my fortune told, and I am
ashamed to confess I paid the gypsy a pound for a brass pin with a round
bead for a head--a charmed pin, which would keep away rat, and cat, and
snake, a malevolent spirit, or "a cove to cut my throat," from hurting
me. The purchase was partly an indication of the trepidations of that
period Of my life. At all events, I had her pin and she my pound, and I
venture to say I was the gladder of the two.

It was moonlight when we reached Bartram-Haugh. It had a forlorn
character of desertion and decay, contrasting almost awfully with the
grandeur of its proportions and richness of its architecture. A shabby
little old man, a young plump, but very pretty female figure in
unusually short petticoats, and a dowdy old charwoman, all stood in the
door among a riot of dogs. I sat shyly back, peeping at the picture
before me.

"Will you tell me--yes or no--is my cousin in the coach?" screamed the
young lady. She received me with a hug and a hearty "buss," as she
called that salutation, and was evidently glad to see me. Then, after
leading me to my bed-room to make a hurried toilet, she conducted me to
a handsome wainscotted room, where my Uncle Silas awaited me.

A singular looking old man--a face like marble, with a fearful
monumental look--an apparition, drawn,