"Frederik Grimm," said the Dead Man at last, his voice low but infinitely impressive, "my beloved nephew! You sit there opening my mail with the heart of a stone. You are saying to yourself: 'He is gone; there will be fine times ahead.' But there is one thing you have forgotten, Frederik: The Law of Reward and Punishment. Your hour has come--_to think_!"
Frederik, unheeding, continued to open, read, and sort the letters before him.
At the Dead Man's last words, his nephew picked from the heap a blue envelope, ripped it open, and pulled out the enclosures:--a single sheet of blue paper and a cheap photograph.
"Oh, my God! Oh, my _God_!" he babbled over and over, foolishly, staring from letter to photograph. "Here's luck! What luck it is! Anne Marie to my uncle! Lord! If he'd lived to read it! If he had read it! Out I'd have been kicked! One--two--three--_Augenblick_! Out into the street! Oh, what unbelievable luck! If she'd written to him ten days earlier! Ten little days!"
His hand shaking, he picked up the letter again, spread it wide, and began to read it, Peter Grimm standing behind him, looking over the reader's shoulder.
"Dear Mr. Grimm," the letter ran, "I have not written because I can't help Willem. And I am ashamed. Don't be too hard upon me, sir, in your thoughts. At first I often went hungry. And then the few pennies I had saved for him were spent. Now I see that I can never hope to get him back. Willem is far better off with you. I know he is. But, oh, how I wish I could just see him again! _Once._ Perhaps I could come there in the night time and no one would know----"
"Oh!" breathed Peter Grimm, between tight clenched teeth. "The pity of it! The _pity_ of it!"
"Who's that?" cried Frederik, looking up with a start of terror from his perusal of the letter.
The young man peered about the shadows beyond the radius of the lamp, a nervous dread at his heart.
"Who's in the room!" he demanded, glancing behind him.
[Illustration: "Who's in the room!" he demanded]
Then with a self-contemptuous shake of his head he muttered angrily:
"That's queer. I could have sworn somebody was looking over my shoulder. Bah! My nerves are going bad!"
He returned to the reading of the letter.