Suddenly the telephone on his desk began to ring. Usually it made a very loud, demanding sound.
This time it was ringing very softly. `Perhaps there is something wrong with it,' thought Teesdale.
However, the telephone was certainly ringing, and he got up and picked up the receiver.
`Hullo,' he said.
All he could hear was a whisper. `I can't hear you,' he said. `Speak louder, please!'
Again the whisper came, but Teesdale could not hear a word of it. Then it became softer, and died
away.
He stood there for a few moments. Then he telephoned the operator. `I've just had a telephone call,'
he said. `Can you tell me where the call came from, please?'
The operator checked, and gave him a number. To Teesdale's surprise it was the number of the
prison. He at once telephoned them.
The voice on the telephone was clear and strong. Teesdale recognized the voice of Prison Officer
Draycott. `There must he some mistake, Doctor. We haven't telephoned you.'
`But the operator says you did, about five minutes ago.'
`The operator must be mistaken, Doctor. Sorry.'
`Very strange. Well, good night, Draycott.'
Teesdale sat down again. `What a very strange thing,' he said to himself. He thought about the soft
ringing of the telephone bell, and the quiet whisper when he answered it. `I wonder . . .' he said. `No −
no, it's impossible.'
Next morning he went to the prison as usual. Once again he was conscious of an unseen presence
near him. He felt it most strongly in the prison yard, near the hanging−shed. At the same time he was
conscious of a deep and mysterious horror deep inside him. The spirit needed help. This feeling was so