f a strange hand upon my shoulder.

CHAPTER VI

I shrank from the hand that touched me and, moving quickly aside, struck
a match and peered around. By its light I could discern the form of a
man standing near the edge of the thicket. Rising to my feet I took down
the lantern and lighted it. There, standing before me, was the grinning
mute who had admitted me to the house. My uncle, who was still kneeling,
rose feebly to his feet, his eyes wet with tears.

"Good friend!" said he, taking the lantern from me and handing it to the
mute. "He alway comes for me here."

We followed the old servant in silence through the thick boughs of cedar
until we came to the door of a low-roofed wooden building that stood
by itself in the thicket. The mute opened the door, ushering us into
a small room containing a bed and some simple furniture. A comfortable
wood fire was burning in a large open stove, and we both sat down in
front of it, shivering from exposure to the chilly air of the night. My
uncle handed a key to the mute, who unlocked a cupboard, taking from it
a decanter of whiskey, which he set before us with glasses.

"It will warm you," said my uncle, pouring out the spirits: "I have
seen my wife. She always comes to me there--when the light goes out. She
knows your heart better than I. We shall leave Rayel to your care. It is
the last time I shall come here. My work is nearly finished."

We emptied our glasses in silence, but my mind was busy thinking on
those impressive words, "She always comes to me there--when the light
goes out."

It was strange--this going out of the light just at that moment. Was it
not possible, I asked myself, that the lantern, being always hung on the
same projection, was thus in the way of a current of air passing down
the trunk of the tree when a gust of wind struck its lofty branches? If
so, the knot would naturally conduct the current into the opening at
the top of the lantern. My reflections were interrupted by my uncle, who
rose, and, taking a candle, asked me to accompany him. I followed him
into a cellar filled with casks and barrels containing, as I supposed,
wine and provisions for future use. Returning, we passed through a
large room, in one end of which many boxes and barrels were stored. I
afterward learned that there was a large garden and poultry yard in this
lonely nook where my uncle's only servant was sequestered.

I was glad when we started back through the thicket, for