rious coincidence, he had
known this house before he went to India, having stayed here as a boy.
He showed particular interest in the oval gallery, and encouraged Uncle
Edward to talk of Siva, although he saw that the subject excited him
considerably.

"Jasper had been about a fortnight in the house when my poor uncle made,
as he considered, the astounding discovery that Siva could speak to
him. I shall never forget the first day when he told me of this, the
sparkle in his eyes, the tremble of his hands, the nervous energy which
seemed to animate him. From that hour day by day came the gradual
diminution of strength both of mind and body, the loss of appetite, the
feverish touch. All these things puzzled and distressed me, but I could
not bear to confide my fears to Jasper.

"These things went on for over a month, and Uncle Edward certainly
deteriorated in every way. He spent the greater part of both day and
night in the gallery, begging of me to come with him, imploring me to
listen for the voice. During that month he spent a large fortune in
precious stones for Siva, showing them to me first before he decorated
the hideous thing with them. I felt wild with misery, and all the time
Jasper was here watching and watching. At the end of the first month
there came a distinct change. Uncle Edward, who had been devoted to me
up to then, began to show a new attitude. He now began to dislike to
have me in his presence, often asking me as a special favour to leave
the room. One day he said to me:

"'Do you keep your door locked at night?'

"I laughed when he spoke.

"'Certainly not,' I answered.

"'I wish you would do so,' he said very earnestly; 'will you, as a
personal favour to me?'

"Jasper was in the room when he spoke. I saw a queer light flashing
through his eyes, and then he bent over his book as if he had not heard.

"'As a special favour to me, keep your door locked, Helen,' said Uncle
Edward.

"I made him a soothing answer, and pretended to assent. Of course I
never locked my door. Then Jasper began to talk to me. He said that
Uncle Edward was not only mad, but that his mania was assuming a
terrible form, and against me. He said that my life was in danger--he
thought to frighten me--little he knew!"

Here the brave girl drew herself up, indignation sweeping over her face
and filling her eyes.

"I told him I did not believe a word of what he said; I declared that
Uncle Edward could not hate me--is he no