e you going to do about it?" remarked Soelling. "It would
be vandalism to break up that arm. What God has joined together let no
man put asunder," he concluded with pathos.

"Let's auction it off," exclaimed Daae. "I will be the auctioneer, and
this key to the graveyard will serve me for a hammer."

The laughter broke out anew as Daae took his place solemnly at the
head of the table and began to whine out the following announcement:
"I hereby notify all present that on the 25th of November, at twelve
o'clock at midnight, in corridor No. 5 of the student barracks, a
lady's arm in excellent condition, with all its appurtenances of wrist
bones, joints, and finger tips, is to be offered at public auction.
The buyer can have possession of his purchase immediately after the
auction, and a credit of six weeks will be given to any reliable
customer. I bid a Danish shilling."

"One mark," cried Soelling mockingly.

"Two," cried somebody else.

"Four," exclaimed Soelling. "It's worth it. Why don't you join in,
Simsen? You look as if you were sitting in a hornet's nest."

I bid one mark more, and Soelling raised me a thaler. There were no
more bids, the hammer fell, and the arm belonged to Soelling.

"Here, take this," he said, handing me a mark piece; "it's part of
your commission as grave robber. You shall have the rest later, unless
you prefer that I should turn it over to the drinking fund." With
these words Soelling wrapped the arm in a newspaper, and the gay crowd
ran noisily down the stairs and through the streets, until their
singing and laughter were lost in the distance.

I stood alone, still dazed and bewildered, staring at the piece of
money in my hand. My thoughts were far too much excited that I should
hope to sleep. I turned up my lamp and took out one of my books to try
and study myself into a quieter mood. But without success.

Suddenly I heard a sound like that of a swinging pendulum. I raised my
head and listened attentively. There was no clock either in my room or
in the neighboring ones--but I could still hear the sound. At the same
moment my lamp began to flicker. The oil was apparently exhausted. I
was about to rise to fill it again, when my eyes fell upon the door,
and I saw the graveyard key, which I had hung there, moving slowly
back and forth with a rhythmic swing. Just as its motion seemed about
to die away, it would receive a gentle push as from an unseen hand,
and would swing back and forth