The weary eyes closed, and Frank leaned forward, thinking the end had come. After some minutes, however, there was a slight heaving of the breast, and the eyes opened again, as if by some mighty effort the dying man had dragged his soul back from the borders of the unknown.
“Frank,” came the whisper like the wind amid the leaves, “are you there?”
“Yes, professor.”
“I had forgotten something. I could not go till you forgave me for the injury I have done you.”
“I freely forgive everything.”
A faint smile came to the life-weary face.
“Now I can go.”
Again the wind swept through the trees.
“Do you hear them? They are rapping again! You have not opened the window!”
“No.”