"What?" blurted Frederik. "You saw him, too?"
His unguarded query was lost in Mrs. Batholommey's gasp of:
"Oh, Kathrien, that's quite impossible. It was only a coincidence that——"
"I don't care what any one else may think," rushed on Kathrien, swept along upon the wave of a strange exultation that bore her far out of her wonted timid self. "People have the right to think for themselves. I believe Oom Peter has been here, to-night!"
"I am here, Katje," breathed the Dead Man.
"I believe he is here, now!" declared Kathrien, her eyes aglow, and her face flushed. "He is here. Oh, Oom Peter!" she cried, her arms stretched wide in appeal, her face alight, her voice rising like that of a prophetess of old. "Oom Peter, if you can hear me now, give me back my promise! Give it back to me—or I'll take it back!"
"I did give it back to you, dear," answered Peter Grimm happily. "But, oh, what a time I've had putting it across!"