"I couldn't make out at first who it was. Then I heard it again:

"'Willem, Willem,' it said, 'you _must_ hear me.'

"Then I looked around and saw Mynheer Peter's hat on the rack, and I
knew he must have come back. But I couldn't see him.

"'Where are you, Mynheer Peter?' I asked him.

"'You cannot see me, Willem, but I am here. I want you to tell them all
I am here.'

"That's as near as I can remember it. We talked a while longer. Then he
said something like:

"'Go over and look on the table, Willem.'

"I went to the table and saw some torn pieces of paper.

"'Put them together, Willem,' said Mynheer Grimm.

"When I had got it all pasted together I saw it was my mother, Anne
Marie; and then you and Miss Kathrien came down.

"Uncle Peter was standing over there about in the middle of the room. I
could tell from his voice, but I couldn't see him.

"'Tell them about the man who made Anne Marie cry,' Mynheer Peter told
me. And he kept saying, 'Hurry, Willem, before it is too late; he is
coming. Hurry, Willem, hurry,' and just before Mr. Frederik came in
Mynheer Peter said, 'Tell them now, Willem; _he_ is listening at the
door.'

"Before you came down I asked Mynheer Peter to take me back with him
when he went and he said he would."

Now, mind you, Willem knew nothing of the compact Peter and I had made.

Peter Grimm had said he would return, if he could. I believe he did so.

My studies of the so-called "Occult" have done my reputation in this
narrow provincial town much harm. I have been sneered at as a
"spiritualist," a "spook hunter," an "agnostic." I am none of the three.
I am a seeker after Truth; even while fully aware of the impossibility
of absolutely finding that elusive quality. Nor do my researches in any
way conflict with revealed religion, nor in the simple Bible faith that
has ever been mine and that shall forever sustain me.

Having thus set forth my personal position in the matter--perhaps
tediously and to an undue length,--I beg to call your attention to my
report.

Very truly yours,
ANDREW MCPHERSON, M.D.

CHAPTER XIX

BACK TO THE STORY

Dr. McPherson occasionally gave a vigorous shake to his fountain pen,
and made corrections here and there.

It was nearly midnight, and he had been writing almost uninterruptedly
since he had followed Willem upstairs after the boy's flight.

Willem had been restless and feverish, and had asked repeatedly to be
brought down to the