VI





After a lapse of four years, during which he had as completely
vanished out of the memory of Stillwater as if he had been lying all
the while in the crowded family tomb behind the South Church, Richard
Shackford reappeared one summer morning at the door of his cousin's
house in Welch's Court. Mr. Shackford was absent at the moment, and
Mrs. Morganson, an elderly deaf woman, who came in for a few hours
every day to do the house-work, was busy in the extension. Without
announcing himself, Richard stalked up-stairs to the chamber in the
gable, and went directly to a little shelf in one corner, upon which
lay the dog's-eared copy of Robinson Crusoe just as he had left it,
save the four years' accumulation of dust. Richard took the book
fiercely in both hands, and with a single mighty tug tore it from top
to bottom, and threw the fragments into the fire-place.

A moment later, on the way down-stairs, he encountered his kinsman
ascending.

"Ah, you have come back!" was Mr. Shackford's grim greeting after
a moment's hesitation.

"Yes," said Richard, with embarrassment, though he had made up his