The
other man plunged forward to the ground and lay where he had fallen
without quivering. *       *       *       *       *

The clock in the hall struck two with muted strokes. Cautiously Edith
Williams rose on her elbow and looked down at her husband's face. His
eyes opened and looked back at her. "You're awake," she said, unnecessarily. "I woke up a few minutes ago," he answered. "I've been lying
here--thinking." "I'll get you another phenobarbital. Dr. Amos said for you to take
them and sleep until tomorrow." "I know. I'll take one presently. You know--hearing that clock just
now reminded me of something." "Yes?" "Just before I came to this afternoon, after the crash, I had a
strange impression of hearing a bell ring. It sounded so loud in my
ears I opened my eyes to see where it was." "A--bell?" "Yes. Just auditory hallucination, of course." "But Mark--"

"Yes?" "A--a bell did ring. I mean, I had the crystal bell in my bag and it
tinkled a little. Do you suppose--"

"Of course not." But though he spoke swiftly he did not sound
convincing. "This was a loud bell. Like a great gong." "But--I mean, Mark darling--a moment earlier you--had no pulse." "No pulse?" "And you weren't--breathing. Then the crystal bell tinkled and
you--you...."

"Nonsense! I know what you're thinking and believe me--it's nonsense!" "But Mark." She spoke carefully. "The driver of the other car. You had
no sooner regained consciousness than he--"

"He had a fractured skull!" Dr. Williams interrupted sharply. "The
ambulance intern diagnosed it. Skull fractures often fail to show
themselves and then--bingo, you keel over. That's what happened. Now
let's say no more about it." "Of course." In the hall, the clock struck the quarter hour. "Shall I
fix the phenobarbital now?" "Yes--no. Is David home?" She hesitated. "No, he hasn't got back yet." "Has he phoned? He knows he's supposed to be in by midnight at the
latest." "No, he--hasn't phoned. But there's a school dance tonight." "That's no excuse for not phoning. He has the old car, hasn't he?" "Yes. You gave him the keys this morning, remember?" "All the more reason he should phone." Dr. Williams lay silent a
moment. "Two o'clock is too late for a 17-year-old boy to be out." "I'll speak to him. He won't do it again. Now please, Mark, let me get
you the phenobarbital. I'll stay up until David--"

       *       *       *       *       *

The ringing phone, a clamor in the darkness, interrupted her. Mark
Williams reached for it. The extension was beside his bed. "Hello," he said. And then, although she could not hear the answering
voice, she felt him stiffen. And she knew. As well as if she could
hear the words she knew, with a mother's instinct for disaster. "Yes," Dr. Williams said. "Yes ... I see ... I understand ... I'll
come at once.... Thank you for calling." He slid out of bed before she could stop him. "An emergency call." He spoke quietly. "I have to go." He began to
throw on his clothes. "It's David," she said. "Isn't it?" She sat up. "Don't try to keep me
from knowing. It's about David." "Yes," he said. His voice was very tired. "David is hurt. I have to go
to him. An accident." "He's dead." She said it steadily. "David's dead, isn't he, Mark?" He came over and sat beside her and put his arms around her. "Edith," he said. "Edith--Yes, he's dead. Forty minutes ago. The
car--went over a curve. They have him--at the County morgue. They want
me to--identify him. Identify him. Edith! You see, the car caught
fire!" "I'm coming with you," she said. "I'm coming with you!" *       *       *       *       *

The taxi waited in a pool of darkness between two street lights. The
long, low building which was the County morgue, a blue lamp over its
door, stood below the street level. A flight of concrete steps went
down to it from the sidewalk. Ten minutes before, Dr. Mark Williams
had gone down those steps. Now he climbed back up them, stiffly,
wearily, like an old man. Edith was waiting in the taxi, sitting forward on the edge of the
seat, hands clenched. As he reached the last step she opened the door
and stepped out. "Mark," she asked shakily, "was it--"

"Yes, it's David." His voice was a monotone. "Our son. I've completed
the formalities. For now the only thing we can do is go home." "I'm going to him!" She tried to pass. He caught her wrist. Discretely
the taxi driver pretended to doze. "No, Edith! There's no need. You mustn't--see him!" "He's my son!" she cried. "Let me go!" "No! What have you got under your coat?" "It's the bell, the rose-crystal bell!" she cried. "I'm going to ring
it where David can hear!" Defiantly she brought forth her hand, clutching the little bell. "It
brought you back, Mark! Now it's going to bring back David!" "Edith!" he said in horror. "You mustn't believe that's possible. You
can't. Those were coincidences. Now let me have it." "No! I'm going to ring it." Violently she tried to break out of his
grip. "I want David back! I'm going to ring the bell!" She got her hand free. The crystal bell rang in the quiet of the early
morning with an eerie thinness, penetrating the silence like a silver
knife. "There!" Edith Williams panted. "I've rung it. I know you don't
believe, but I do. It'll bring David back." She raised her voice. "David!" she called. "David, son! Can you hear me?" "Edith," Dr. Williams groaned. "You're just tormenting yourself. Come
home. Please come home." "Not until David has come back.... David, David, can you hear me?" She
rang the bell again, rang it until Dr. Williams seized it, then she
let him take it. "Edith, Edith," he groaned. "If only you had let me come alone...."

"Mark, listen!" "What?" "Listen!" she whispered with fierce urgency. He was silent. And then fingers of horror drew themselves down his
spine at the clear, youthful voice that came up to them from the
darkness below. "Mother?... Dad?... Where are you?" "David!" Edith Williams breathed. "It's David! Let me go! I must go
to him." "No, Edith!" her husband whispered frantically, as the voice below
called again. "Dad?... Mother?... Are you up there? Wait for me." "Let me go!" she sobbed. "David, we're here! We're up here, son!" "Edith!" Mark Williams gasped. "If you've ever loved me, listen to me. You mustn't go down there. David--I had to identify him by his class
ring and his wallet. He was burned--terribly burned!" "I'm going to him!" She wrenched herself free and sped for the steps,
up which now was coming a tall form, a shadow shrouded in the
darkness. Dr. Williams, horror knotting his stomach, leaped to stop her. But he
slipped and fell headlong on the pavement, so that she was able to
pant down the stairs to meet the upcoming figure. "Oh, David," she sobbed, "David!" "Hey, Mom!" The boy held her steady. "I'm sorry. I'm terribly sorry. But I didn't know what had happened until I got home and you weren't
there and then one of the fellows from the fraternity called me.