k Bible lay on the chimneypiece, and leaning its back
against the mirror, I began to read in it with a mind as attentively
directed as I could. While so engaged in turning over the leaves, I lighted
upon two or three odd-looking papers, which had been folded into it. One
was a broad printed thing, with names and dates written into blank spaces,
and was about the size of a quarter of a yard of very broad ribbon. The
others were mere scraps, with 'Dudley Ruthyn' penned in my cousin's vulgar
round-hand at the foot. While I folded and replaced these, I really don't
know what caused me to fancy that something was moving behind me, as I
stood with my back toward the bed. I do not recollect any sound whatever;
but instinctively I glanced into the mirror, and my eyes were instantly
fixed by what I saw.

The figure of Uncle Silas rose up, and dressed in a long white morning
gown, slid over the end of the bed, and with two or three swift
noiseless steps, stood behind me, with a death-like scowl and a simper.
Preternaturally tall and thin, he stood for a moment almost touching me,
with the white bandage pinned across his forehead, his bandaged arm stiffly
by his side, and diving over my shoulder, with his long thin hand he
snatched the Bible, and whispered over my head--'The serpent beguiled her
and she did eat;' and after a momentary pause, he glided to the farthest
window, and appeared to look out upon the midnight prospect.

It was cold, but he did not seem to feel it. With the same inflexible scowl
and smile, he continued to look out for several minutes, and then with a
great sigh, he sat down on the side of his bed, his face immovably turned
towards me, with the same painful look.

It seemed to me an hour before old Wyat came back; and never was lover made
happier at sight of his mistress than I to behold that withered crone.

You may be sure I did not prolong my watch. There was now plainly no risk
of my uncle's relapsing into lethargy. I had a long hysterical fit of
weeping when I got into my room, with honest Mary Quince by my side.

Whenever I closed my eyes, the face of Uncle Silas was before me, as I had
seen it reflected in the glass. The sorceries of Bartram were enveloping me
once more.

Next morning the doctor said he was quite out of danger, but very weak.
Milly and I saw him; and again in our afternoon walk we saw the doctor
marching under the trees in the direction of the Windmill Wood.

'Going down to see