need of some one? and if he were, who was
there but his nephew--the one man of his kindred left alive?

"I'll do it at once," said Reuben, and walking straight to the door, he
knocked. He would have given all he had to be away when this was done,
but he had to stand his ground, and he waited a long time while a hand
drew back the shrieking bolts and clattering chain within. Then the key
turned in the lock. The door opened and his uncle stood before him.

"Beest early this morning," he said, with a smile. "Theer's something
special brings thee here so 'soon?"

"Yes," answered Reuben, clearing his throat, "something special."

"Come in, lad," said Ezra. "No trouble, I hope. Theer's a kind of a
troubled look upon you. What is it?"

Reuben entered without an immediate answer, and Ezra closed the door
behind him. The gloom and the almost vault-like odors of the chamber
struck upon him with a cold sense of solitude and age. They answered
to the thoughts that filled him--the thoughts of his uncle's lonely and
sunless life.

"Trouble!" said the old man, in an inward voice. "Theer's trouble
everywheer! What is it, lad?"

"Sit down, uncle," began Reuben, after a pause in which Ezra peered at
him anxiously. "I find I must tell you some business of my own to make
myself quite clear. I wrote a note to Ruth last night, and I learned
from her that she had put an answer between the leaves of Manzini. I
took the book home and found a note addressed to Mr. Gold. I opened
it, and it was signed with an 'R,' and so I read it. But I can't help
thinking it belongs to you. The paper's very yellow and old, and I think
"--his voice grew treacherous, and he could scarcely command it--"I
think it must have lain there unnoticed for some years."

He held it out rustling and shaking in his hand. Ezra, breathing hard
and short, accepted it, and began to grope in his pockets for his
spectacle-case. After a while he found it, and tremblingly setting his
glasses astride his nose, began to unfold the paper, which crackled
noisily in the dead silence.

When he had unfolded it he glanced across at Reuben and walked to the
window.

"Theer's summat wrong," he said, when he had stood there for a minute or
two, with the crisp, thick old paper crackling in his hand. "Summat the
matter wi' my eyes. Read it--out." His voice was ghastly strange.

Reuben approached him and took the letter from his fingers. In this
exchange their hands met, and Ezra's w