“Think she can hear you, do you?” it inquired mockingly--“Oh--hoo-roo!--what a fool you are, McNason! She is as far away from you as you are from her--and that’s a pretty long distance, I can tell you! You’re out in the storm and wind--she’s in the full sunshine! As I told you, she enjoys a ‘spiritual’ climate--supernatural weather! But you don’t believe in the supernatural, do you, McNason? Of course not! Why should you! You don’t believe in anybody but yourself! Not even in Me! Oh Beelzebub! Come along, come along!” “Where to?” cried the miserable man, “Where in the name of Heaven do you want to take me next?” “You shouldn’t talk about Heaven,”--said the Goblin, severely--“That’s a ‘supernatural’ place. I don’t want to take you _there_, you may be sure! It wouldn’t suit you at all! Nor me! Come along, come along! Don’t hanker any more after what you have lost and can never find again! Sentiment is Stupidity--Money is Wisdom! Think of that! It makes you one of the wisest men on earth! Come! I’ve got another old friend waiting to see you--urgent appointment! Come along, I tell you!” And the Goblin made a vicious grab at McNason’s coat-collar. “Don’t _yearn_ like that! You’re too old to play Romeo, and ever so much too ugly! Hoo-roo-oo-oo! One Timothy Two!--and away we go!” * * * * * Out into the storm again on the wings of the bitter winter wind! All the sunshine of the “spiritual” climate vanished, and a great panorama of dark clouds moved rapidly through the freezing air. Clouds everywhere!--clouds of fantastic form and giant shape,--clouds like rocky fortresses set on the summits of high mountains,--clouds resembling huge ruminative animals wallowing in ether,--clouds heavy and threatening, suggesting pent-up thunder and jagged flame! Like a couple of midges the Goblin and its human victim were tossed from edge to edge of the thick rolling vapours, and when they descended to earth once more, Josiah McNason found himself in the small “best parlour” of an unpretentious residence,--one in a row of similar dwellings in an unpretentious street. “Keep your eyes open, McNason!” said the Goblin--“And your ears! Nobody sees YOU, you know, or ME! We’re invisible. And if you want to curse and swear, do so by all means! Nobody hears, and nobody cares!” Josiah looked, and saw before him a man reclining in an invalid chair near a small bright fire, his eyes fixed on the sparkling flames with a patient and wistful sadness. A pale, sweet-faced woman with soft brown hair somewhat silvered, knelt by him, clasping one of his hands tenderly in her own. There were traces of tears on her worn thin cheeks, and her lips quivered. And standing close by, with one arm resting on the mantelpiece, and eyes bent compassionately down upon the pair, was another man whom McNason had no difficulty in recognising as his overseer, Mr. Pitt. Yet his surprise at this was so great that he could not forbear an exclamation.