WYLDER'S HAJVD.
185
fancy of her young mistress, although on Sunday night
she would have preferred other talk, recounted her old
tale of wonder.
"Yes, it is true — a true allegory, I mean, Tamar.
Death will close the eyes and ears against the sights and
sounds of earth; but even the tomb secures no secrecy.
Oh, Tamar! turn over the pages, and try to find some
part which says where safety and peace may be found at
any price; for sometimes I think I am almost bereft of
— reason."
CHAPTER XXXII.
ME. LARKIN AND THE VICAR.
The good Vicar was not only dismayed but endangered
by his brother's protracted absence. It was now the first
week in November. Bleak and wintry that ungenial
month set in at Gylingden; and in accord with the tem-
pestuous and dismal weather the fortunes of the Rev.
William Wylder were darkened and agitated.
This morning a letter came at breakfast, by post, and
when he had read it, the poor Vicar grew a little white,
and he folded it very quietly and put it in his waistcoat
pocket, and patted little Fairy on the head. Little Fairy
was asking him a question all this time, very vehemently,
"How long was Jack's sword that he killed the giants <
with?" and several times to this distinct question he
received only the unsatisfactory reply, " Yes, my darl-
ing;" and at last, when little Fairy mounted his knee, and
hugged the abstracted Vicar round the neck, urged his