"The occupying myself with the story brought my mind around again to memories of Lucien. One day, I saw a notice in _Le Figaro_ to the effect that his book, 'The Force of the Wind,' had appeared in a second large edition, and had aroused much attention, particularly in spiritualistic circles. I seemed to see him again before me, with his long nervous neck, which was so expressive. The vision of this neck rose up before me whenever I drank the same sort of whisky that I had drunk so often with him, and the longing to hear something more of my lost friend came over me. I sat down one evening when in a sentimental mood, and wrote to him, asking him to tell me something of himself and to send me his book. "A week later I received the little book and the following letter which I have here in my pocket. It is somewhat crumpled, for I have read it several times. But no matter. I will read it to you now, if you will pardon my awkward translating of the French original. "Here it is: "DEAR FRIEND: "Many thanks for your letter. Here is the book. I have to thank you also that you did not lay my behavior of your last days in Paris up against me. It must have seemed strange to you. I will try to explain it. "I have been nervous from childhood. The fact that most of my books have treated of fantastic subjects,--somewhat in the manner of Edgar Allan Poe--has made me more susceptible for all that world which lies beyond and about the world of every-day life. I have sought after,--and yet feared--the mystical; cool and lucid as I can be at times, I have always had an inclination for the enigmatical, the Unknown. "But the first thing that ever happened in my life that I could not explain or understand was the affair of the manuscript. You remember the day I stood in your room? I must have looked the picture of misery. The affair had played more havoc with my nerves than you can very well understand. Your mockery hurt me, and yet under all I felt ashamed of my own thoughts concerning this foolish occurrence. I could not explain the phenomenon, and I shivered at the things that it suggested to me. In this condition, which lasted several weeks, I could not bear to see you or anyone else, and I was impolite enough even to leave your letter unanswered. "The book appeared and made a hit, since that sort of thing was the center of interest just then. But almost a month passed before I could arouse myself from that condition of fear and--I had almost said, softening of the brain--which prevented my enjoyment of my success. "Then the explanation came. Thanks to this occurrence I know now that I shall never again be in danger of being 'haunted.'