To-day a sudden volubility had
descended on her; she continued to talk, rapidly and nervously, looking
straight in front of her and seeming to address no one in particular.
"It is not when _any one_ dies in the castle that the howling is heard.
It was when one of the Cernogratz family died here that the wolves came
from far and near and howled at the edge of the forest just before the
death hour. There were only a few couple of wolves that had their lairs
in this part of the forest, but at such a time the keepers say there
would be scores of them, gliding about in the shadows and howling in
chorus, and the dogs of the castle and the village and all the farms
round would bay and howl in fear and anger at the wolf chorus, and as the
soul of the dying one left its body a tree would crash down in the park.
That is what happened when a Cernogratz died in his family castle. But
for a stranger dying here, of course no wolf would howl and no tree would
fall. Oh, no."
There was a note of defiance, almost of contempt, in her voice as she
said the last words. The well-fed, much-too-well dressed Baroness stared
angrily at the dowdy old woman who had come forth from her usual and
seemly position of effacement to speak so disrespectfully.
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