"Not a vestige of the writing remains," Mr. MacGlue repeated, quietly. "If you feel the slightest doubt of what I have told you," I went on, "ask my mother; she will bear witness that she saw the writing too." "I don't doubt that you both saw the writing," answered Mr. MacGlue, with a composure that surprised me. "Can you account for it?" I asked. "Well," said the impenetrable doctor, "if I set my wits at work, I believe I might account for it to the satisfaction of some people. For example, I might give you what they call the rational explanation, to begin with. I might say that you are, to my certain knowledge, in a highly excited nervous condition; and that, when you saw the apparition (as you call it), you simply saw nothing but your own strong impression of an absent woman, who (as I greatly fear) has got on the weak or amatory side of you. I mean no offense, Mr. Germaine--" "I take no offense, doctor. But excuse me for speaking plainly--the rational explanation is thrown away on me." "I'll readily excuse you," answered Mr. MacGlue; "the rather that I'm entirely of your opinion. I don't believe in the rational explanation myself." This was surprising, to say the least of it. "What _do_ you believe in?" I inquired. Mr. MacGlue declined to let me hurry him. "Wait a little," he said. "There's the _ir_rational explanation to try next. Maybe it will fit itself to the present state of your mind better than the other. We will say this time that you have really seen the ghost (or double) of a living person. Very good. If you can suppose a disembodied spirit to appear in earthly clothing--of silk or merino, as the case may be--it's no great stretch to suppose, next, that this same spirit is capable of holding a mortal pencil, and of writing mortal words in a mortal sketching-book. And if the ghost vanishes (which your ghost did), it seems supernaturally appropriate that the writing should follow the example and vanish too. And the reason of the vanishment may be (if you want a reason), either that the ghost does not like letting a stranger like me into its secrets, or that vanishing is a settled habit of ghosts and of everything associated with them, or that this ghost has changed its mind in the course of three hours (being the ghost of a woman, I am sure that's not wonderful), and doesn't care to see you 'when the full moon shines on Saint Anthony's Well.' There's the _ir_rational explanation for you. And, speaking for myself, I'm bound to add that I don't set a pin's value on _that_ explanation either." Mr. MacGlue's sublime indifference to both sides of the question began to irritate me. "In plain words, doctor," I said, "you don't think the circumstances that I have mentioned to you worthy of serious investigation?"