to talk about him, but now I _will_. I'll talk away just
whatever I like; and I'll stay here just as long as you let me, Maud, and
you need not be one atom afraid of him. Our intercourse to an "immediate
close," indeed! I only wish he were here. He should hear something!'

And Cousin Monica drank off her entire cup of tea at one draught, and then
she said, more in her own way--

'I'm better!' and drew a long breath, and then she laughed a little in a
waggish defiance. 'I wish we had him here, Maud, and _would_ not we give
him a bit of our minds! And this before the poor will is so much as
proved!'

'I am almost glad he wrote that postscript; for although I don't think he
has any authority in that matter while I am under my own roof,' I said,
extemporising a legal opinion, 'and, therefore, shan't obey him, it has
somehow opened my eyes to my real situation.'

I sighed, I believe, very desolately, for Lady Knollys came over and kissed
me very gently and affectionately.

'It really seems, Maud, as if he had a supernatural sense, and heard things
through the air over fifty miles of heath and hill. You remember how, just
as he was probably writing that very postscript yesterday, I was urging you
to come and stay with me, and planning to move Dr. Bryerly in our favour.
And so I will, Maud, and to me you _shall_ come--my guest, mind--I should
be so delighted; and really if Silas is under a cloud, it has been his own
doing, and I don't see that it is your business to fight his battle. He
can't live very long. The suspicion, whatever it is dies with him, and what
could poor dear Austin prove by his will but what everybody knew quite well
before--his own strong belief in Silas's innocence? What an awful storm!
The room trembles. Don't you like the sound? What they used to call
'wolving' in the old organ at Dorminster!'

CHAPTER XXVI

_THE STORY OF UNCLE SILAS_

And so it was like the yelling of phantom hounds and hunters, and the
thunder of their coursers in the air--a furious, grand and supernatural
music, which in my fancy made a suitable accompaniment to the discussion of
that enigmatical person--martyr--angel--demon--Uncle Silas--with whom my
fate was now so strangely linked, and whom I had begun to fear.

'The storm blows from that point,' I said, indicating it with my hand and
eye, although the window shutters and curtains were closed. 'I saw all the
trees bend that way this evening. That way stands the gr