es,' said I, 'for it was all secured--that is, the window and the
door--upon the inside, and no sign of any attempt to get in.'

'Just so; and when the walls were searched, and, as your uncle Silas
directed, the wainscoting removed, some months afterwards, when the scandal
grew loudest, then it was evident that there was no concealed access to the
room.'

'So the answer to all those calumnies was simply that the crime was
impossible,' said I. 'How dreadful that such a slander should have required
an answer at all!'

'It was an unpleasant affair even then, although I cannot say that anyone
supposed Silas guilty; but you know the whole thing was disreputable, that
Mr. Charke was a discreditable inmate, the occurrence was horrible, and
there was a glare of publicity which brought into relief the scandals of
Bartram-Haugh. But in a little time it became, all on a sudden, a great
deal worse.'

My cousin paused to recollect exactly.

'There were very disagreeable whispers among the sporting people in London.
This person, Charke, had written two letters, Yes--two. They were published
about two months after, by the villain to whom they were written; he wanted
to extort money. They were first talked of a great deal among that set in
town; but the moment they were published they produced a sensation in the
country, and a storm of newspaper commentary. The first of these was of no
great consequence, but the second was very startling, embarrassing, and
even alarming.'

'What was it, Cousin Monica?' I whispered.

'I can only tell you in a general way, it is so very long since I read
it; but both were written in the same kind of slang, and parts as hard to
understand as a prize fight. I hope you never read those things.'

I satisfied this sudden educational alarm, and Lady Knollys proceeded.

'I am afraid you hardly hear me, the wind makes such an uproar. Well,
listen. The letter said distinctly, that he, Mr. Charke, had made a very
profitable visit to Bartram-Haugh, and mentioned in exact figures for how
much he held your uncle Silas's I.O.U.'s, for he could not pay him. I can't
say what the sum was. I only remember that it was quite frightful. It took
away my breath when I read it.'

'Uncle Silas had lost it?' I asked.

'Yes, and owed it; and had given him those papers called I.O.U.'s promising
to pay, which, of course, Mr. Charke had locked up with his money; and the
insinuation was that Silas had made away with him, t