My father
was Yram's skeleton. True, he was a mere skeleton of a skeleton, for the
chances were thousands to one that he and my mother had perished long
years ago; and even though he rang at the bell, there was no harm that he
either could or would now do to her or hers; still, so long as she did
not certainly know that he was dead, or otherwise precluded from
returning, she could not be sure that he would not one day come back by
the way that he would alone know, and she had rather he should not do so.
Hence, on hearing from Professor Hanky that a man had been seen between
the statues and Sunch'ston wearing the old Erewhonian dress, she was
disquieted and perplexed. The excuse he had evidently made to the
Professors aggravated her uneasiness, for it was an obvious attempt to
escape from an unexpected difficulty. There could be no truth in it. Her
son would as soon think of wearing the old dress himself as of letting
his men do so; and as for having old clothes still to wear out after
seventeen years, no one but a Bridgeford Professor would accept this. She
saw, therefore, that she must keep her wits about her, and lead her
guests on to tell her as much as they could be induced to do.
"My son," she said innocently, "is always considerate to his men, and
that is why they are so devoted to him.
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