That was the last I saw or heard in this life of mortal Peter Grimm, standing there with a smile on his face.
I had been absent but a few minutes when I heard Kathrien crying my name. I ran back to the house. Peter Grimm was dead.
Ten days later came the séance described in my enclosure. Later in the evening I went to Willem's room and had a quiet little talk with him. He was calm again and spoke freely of what seemed to him an utterly natural experience. And from that conversation I believe I confirmed still further what was already established as a fact, so far as I was concerned. Peter Grimm had kept his compact with me. He had returned!
I wanted to talk with Willem at a time when he was in a normal condition and not in the thrall of fear. I found him without fever, though weaker than he had been for several days. I assured him that he had nothing to fear from Frederik, that all of us were his friends, and that no harm could come to him.
"Now tell me, Willem," I said, "all about your seeing Uncle Peter this evening."
"I awoke very thirsty and went downstairs for a drink," the boy told me in effect. "The ice pitcher felt so cool that I rested my cheek against it and then I drank some more water. Then I heard some one calling me.
"'Willem, Willem,' a voice said, 'can you hear me? Is there no one in this house that can hear me?'
"I couldn't make out at first who it was. Then I heard it again:
"'Willem, Willem,' it said, 'you must hear me.'
"Then I looked around and saw Mynheer Peter's hat on the rack, and I knew he must have come back. But I couldn't see him.