'Many,' said the seer; 'but a prophet is never honoured. We live in
solitude and privations--the world hates us--they stone us--they cut us
asunder, even when we are dead. Feel me--I'm cold and white all over--I
died too soon--I'd have had wings now only for that pistol. I'm as white
as Gehazi, except on my head, when that blood comes.'

Saying which, he rose abruptly, and with long jerking steps limped to the
door, at which, I saw, in the shade, the face of a dark-featured man,
looking gloomily in.

When he reached the door Uncle Lorne suddenly stopped and faced us, with
a countenance of wrath and fear, and threw up his arms in an attitude of
denunciation, but said nothing. I thought for a moment the gigantic
spectre was about to rush upon us in an access of frenzy; but whatever
the impulse, it subsided--or was diverted by some new idea; his
countenance changed, and he beckoned as if to some one in the corner of
the room behind us, and smiled his dreadful smile, and so left the
apartment.

'That d--d old madman is madder than ever,' said Lake, in his fellest
tones, looking steadfastly with his peculiar gaze upon the closed door.
'Jermyn is with him, but he'll burn the house or murder some one yet.
It's all d--d nonsense keeping him here--did you see him at the door?--he
was on the point of assailing some of us. He ought to be in a madhouse.'

'He used to be very quiet,' said the Town Clerk, who knew all about him.

'Oh! very quiet--yes, of course, very quiet, and quite harmless to people
who don't live in the house with him, and see him but once in
half-a-dozen years; but you can't persuade me it is quite so pleasant for