The Master of Silence

m 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, w

antern from me and handing it to the

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, shiv

s comes to me there-when the light goes out. She knows your heart better than I. We shall l

s busy thinking on those impressive words, "She a

es? 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

rough the thicket, for the hour wa

h in the courtyard. "We have enough of everything needful-bu

for my baggage and to post some letters, one of which gave Mr. Earl an account

s were blasted and sere when the old mute, whom I had seen twice before, let me out of the

lty in producing their sound. He went about it with great patience, however, repeating the hardest words after me until he was able to pronounce them correctly. But although the work was often tedious we both got much fun out of it. I had never heard the sound of laughter in that house. One day I broke its solemn spell by laughing heartily at the grotesque distortion of my cousin's face incidental to the produ

im, and he gave much serious thought to it, questioning me closely at some of our interviews, as if dissatisfied with the idea conveyed to him. Our discussions, however, had reached some slu

in a deep sleep most of the time, never able to leave his bed until, revived by the freshness of approaching summer, he had strength enough to sit in an easy-chair by the window. Some fatal malady, the nature of which he did not disclose to me, was evidently

orely grieved by the death of his pet, and although he stood in the shadow of a far greater sorrow, he felt deeply the loss of this lifelong friend. The summer passed slowly, one day like another,

me near an open window overlooking the courtya

d Rayel, calmly. "He told

," I said. "We cannot tell;

ly, and sat for a long time look

u then?" he asked sudd

I ans

estion, for he could read my mind like an open

his cane. Rayel turned pale, and, with a whispered ejaculation, hurried out of the room and

y extending his hand. Raye

ker!" he exclaimed, turning to

eebly, but with a cool and professional air. "I

gan weeping. "Be calm, I say! That music! do you hear it, chi

Rayel, looking earnestl

head of his son, who was kneeling beside him. "I seem to see millions of

dying man's faculties would no longer obey the whip of his mighty will. Indeed, they had done him their final service, for in a few moment