"Did it ring your bell yesterday evening when I was
here, and you went to the door?"
"Twice."
"Why, see," said I, "how your imagination misleads you. My eyes were
on the bell, and my ears were open to the bell, and, if I am a living
man, it did NOT ring at those times. No, nor at any other time, except
when it was rung in the natural course of physical things by the
station communicating with you."
He shook his head. "I have never made a mistake as to that, yet, sir.
I have never confused the spectre's ring with the man's. The ghost's
ring is a strange vibration in the bell that it derives from nothing
else, and I have not asserted that the bell stirs to the eye. I don't
wonder that you failed to hear it. But _I_ heard it."
"And did the spectre seem to be there, when you looked out?"
"It WAS there."
"Both times?"
He repeated firmly: "Both times."
"Will you come to the door with me, and look for it now?"
He bit his under-lip as though he were somewhat unwilling, but arose.
I opened the door, and stood on the step, while he stood in the doorway.
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