“There you have the explanation, the very simple and natural explanation of the phenomenon that almost drove me crazy.

“The entire ‘supernatural’ occurrence was caused by a careless boy’s love affairs, by a gust of southwest wind, by a sudden heavy rain, and by the chance that I had used English ink, the kind that water cannot blur.  All these simple natural things made me act so foolishly toward a good friend, the sort of friend I have always known you to be.  Let me hear from you, and tell me what you people up North think of my book.  I give you my word that the ‘Unknown Powers’ shall never again make me foolish enough to risk losing your friendship!

“Yours

“LUCIEN.”

“So this is my story.  Yes, ’there are more things in heaven and earth—­’ But the workings of Chance are the strangest of all.  And this whisky is really very good.  Here’s to you.”

BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN

THE SEALED ROOM

For many years there stood in a side street in Kiel an unpretentious old frame house which had a forbidding, almost sinister appearance, with its old-fashioned balcony and its overhanging upper stories.  For the last twenty years the house had been occupied by a greatly respected widow, Madame Wolff, to whom the dwelling had come by inheritance.  She lived there quietly with her one daughter, in somewhat straitened circumstances.

What gave the house a mysterious notoriety, augmenting the sinister quality in its appearance, was the fact that one of its rooms, a corner room on the main floor, had not been opened for generations.  The door was firmly fastened and sealed with plaster, as well as the window looking out upon the street.  Above the door was an old inscription, dated 1603, which threatened sudden death and eternal damnation to any human being who dared to open the door or efface the inscription.  Neither door nor window had been opened in the two hundred years that had passed since the inscription was put up.  But for a generation back or more, the partition wall and the sealed door had been covered with wall paper, and the inscription had been almost forgotten.

The room adjoining the sealed chamber was a large hall, utilized only for rare important events.  Such an occasion arose with the wedding of the only daughter of the house.  For that evening the great hall, as it was called, was brilliantly decorated and illuminated for a ball.  The building had deep cellars and the old floors were elastic.  Madame Wolff had in vain endeavored to avoid using the great hall at all, for the foolish old legend of the sealed chamber aroused a certain superstitious dread in her heart, and she rarely if ever entered the hall herself.  But merry Miss Elizabeth, her pretty young daughter, was passionately fond of dancing, and her mother had promised that she should have a ball on her wedding day.  Her betrothed, Secretary