uite sure at the moment that he did hear
me; and I passed the packets over to Mrs. Magnus.

Without a word she placed them on the desk, then turned to me.

"Come," she said. "That is all. Good-by, Peter," she added, and there
was a little sob in her voice. "God bless you."

Was it my fancy, or did something like a sigh come from that unseen
presence in the chair? It was in a sort of maze that I followed Mrs.
Magnus from the room. She switched off the light and then closed the
door.

"Thank God that is over," she said.

I suddenly realized that my face was dripping with perspiration, and I
mopped it feverishly with my handkerchief.

"I would never have believed," I began stammeringly; "I never
thought--why, it's a miracle--it's--"

"Yes, a miracle," repeated Mrs. Magnus. "Though there have been many
instances of the dead returning."

"Have there?" I asked. "Well, of course, I have heard of them, but I
never thought them worthy of belief. But now--"

We had reached the foot of the stairs, and I got my coat down from the
rack and struggled into it. I found that I had mechanically picked up
my bag as I left the room overhead.

"I want to thank you, Mr. Lester," said Mrs. Magnus, facing me, "for
coming here to-night. You have been of the greatest help to me."

"Certainly," I agreed. "Very happy--a great privilege."

I felt that I was talking nonsense, but what, in Heaven's name, is a
man to say who has just been through an experience like that? But Mrs.
Magnus seemed to understand.

"Thank you," she said, and gave me her hand. Then she opened the
street door, and a moment later I found myself groping my way down the
steps. Once down, I paused for a deep breath; then I started up the
street. But I had scarcely taken a dozen steps when a hand fell upon
my arm and drew me into the shadow of a doorway.

CHAPTER IV

For an instant, with the thought of spirits still upon me, I tried to
shake away the hand; then, as I started around at my assailant, I saw
that it was Godfrey.

"Well, Lester," he said, "did you leave the fifty thousand?"

I nodded; I was even yet scarcely capable of connected speech.

Godfrey looked at me curiously.

"You look like you'd seen a ghost," he said.

"I have."

He laughed amusedly.

"Peter Magnus?"

I nodded.

"How is the old boy?"

"Look here, Godfrey," I said, "this isn't a thing to speak of in that
tone. There's something sacred about it."

His face sobered