"No, sir," replied Willem.
"Now," urged Peter Grimm, enclosing the boy's hand in both his own, "do you feel it?"
"I—I feel something," returned Willem, in doubt. "Yes, sir. But where is your hand? There's—there's nothing there!"
"But you hear me?" asked the Dead Man anxiously.
"I—I can't really hear you. It's some kind of a dream, I suppose. Isn't it? Oh, Mynheer Grimm!" he pleaded brokenly. "Take me back with you!"
"You're not quite ready to go with me, yet," said the Dead Man in gentle denial. "Not till you can see me."
The boy reached out for another cake. Still looking straight ahead where he imagined his unseen protector might be, he asked:
"What did you come back for, Mynheer Grimm? Wasn't it nice where you went?"
"Oh, yes! Beyond all belief, dear lad. But I had to come back. Willem, do you think you could take a message for me? Listen very carefully now. Because I want you to remember every word of it. I want you to try to understand. You are to tell Miss Kathrien——"
"It's too bad you died before you could go to the circus, Mynheer Grimm," broke in Willem, munching the cake.