un and get us a blanket, lad," said Si, stopping Herbert again, and
turning up the gas.

"A blanket?"

"Ay, lad! A blanket. Art struck?"

When Herbert returned with the blanket Silas was spilling mustard out of
the mustard tin into a large zinc receptacle which he had removed from
the slop-stone to a convenient place on the floor in front of the fire.
Silas then poured the boiling water from the kettle into the receptacle,
and tested the temperature with his finger.

"Blazes!" he exclaimed, shaking his finger. "Fetch us the whisky, lad."

When Herbert returned a second time, Uncle Silas was sitting on a chair
wearing merely the immense blanket, which fell gracefully in rich folds
around him to the floor. From sundry escaping jets of steam Herbert was
able to judge that the zinc bath lay concealed somewhere within the
blanket. Si's clothes were piled on the deal table.

"I hanna' gotten my feet in yet," said Si. "They're resting on th' edge.
But I'll get 'em in in a minute. Oh! Blazes! Here! Mix us a glass o'
that, hot. And then get out that clothes-horse and hang my duds on it
nigh th' fire."

Herbert obeyed, as if in a dream.

"I canna do wi' another heavy cowd [cold] at my time o' life, and
there's only one way for to stop it. There! That'll do, lad. Let's have
a look at thee."

Herbert perched himself on a corner of the table. The vivacity of Silas
astounded him.

"Thou looks older, nephew," said Silas, sipping at the whisky, and
smacking his lips grimly.

"Do I? Well, you look younger, uncle, anyhow. You've shaved your beard
off, for one thing."

"Yes, and a pretty cold it give me, too! I'd carried that beard for
twenty year."

"Then why did you cut it off?"

"Because I had to, lad. But never mind that. So thou'st taken possession
o' my house?"

"It isn't your house any longer, uncle," said Herbert, determined to get
the worst over at once.

"Not my house any longer! Us'll see whether it inna' my house any
longer."

"If you go and disappear for a twelvemonth and more, uncle, and leave no
address, you must take the consequence. I never knew till after you'd
gone that you'd mortgaged this house for four hundred pounds to Callear,
the fish-dealer."

"Who towd thee that?"

"Callear told me."

"Callear had no cause to be uneasy. I wrote him twice as his interest
'ud be all right when I come back."

"Yes, I know. But you didn't give any address. And he wanted his money
back. So he came to me