ge from such places. He had
suggested that the condition of the family burial ground might be an
inspiration to such strayings. Yet why should the spirit of Silas
Blackburn have escaped? Why should it have returned forthwith to the
Cedars, unless to face his grandson as his murderer?

Afterward Bobby experienced no shame for these reflections. The encounter
was a fitting sequel to the moment in the dark room when he had felt
Howells move beneath his hand. He had a fleeting faith that the void
between the living and the dead had, indeed, been bridged.

Then he wondered that the familiar figure failed to disintegrate, and he
noticed smoke curling from the blackened briar pipe. He caught its
pungent aroma in the damp air of the court. Moreover, Silas Blackburn had
spoken, challenging him as usual with a sneer.

"Let us go past," Katherine whispered.

But Silas Blackburn stepped out, blocking their way. He spoke again. His
whining accents held a reproach.

"What's the matter with you two? You might 'a' seen a ghost. Or maybe
you're sorry to have me back. Didn't you wonder where I was, Katy? Reckon
you hoped I was dead, Bobby."

Bobby answered. He had a fancy of addressing emptiness.

"Why have you come? That is what you are to us--dead."

Silas Blackburn chuckled. He took the pipe from his mouth and tapped the
tobacco down with a knotted forefinger.

"I'll show you how dead I am! Trying to be funny, ain't you? I'll make
you laugh on the wrong side of your face. It's cold here. I'm going in."

The same voice, the same manner! Yet his presence denied that great fact
which during three days had been impressed upon them with a growing fear.

The old man jerked his thumb toward the dimly lighted windows of the
wing.

"What you got the old room lighted up for? What's going on there? I tried
to sleep there the other night--"

"Uncle!"

Katherine sprang forward. She stretched out her hand to him with a
reluctance as pronounced as Graham's when he had touched Howells's body.
Her fingers brushed his hand. Her shoulders drooped. She clung to his
arm. To Bobby this resolution was more of a shock, less to be explained,
than his first assurance of an immaterial visitor. What did it mean to
him? Was it an impossible assurance of safety?

The old man patted Katherine's shoulder.

"Why, what you crying for, Katy? Always seems something to scare
you lately."

He jerked his thumb again toward the lighted windows.

"You