“‘Mary is in the kitchen,’ I answered.
“He put out his hand with a quick gesture, but, not seeing where I stood, he did not touch me. ‘Who is this? who is this?’ he demanded, trying, as it seemed, to see with those sightless eyes,—unavailing and distressing attempt! ‘Answer me,—speak again!’ he ordered, imperiously and aloud.
“‘Will you have a little more water, sir? I spilled half of what was in the glass,’ I said.
“‘Who is it? What is it? Who speaks?’
“‘Pilot knows me, and John and Mary know I am here; I came only this evening,’ I answered.
“‘Great God! what delusion has come over me? What sweet madness has seized me?’
“‘No delusion, no madness; your mind, sir, is too strong for delusion, your health too sound for frenzy.’
“‘And where is this speaker? Is it only a voice? Oh! I cannot see, but I must feel, or my heart will stop, and my brain burst. Whatever—whoever you are—be perceptible to the touch, or I cannot live.’
“He groped; I arrested his wandering hand and prisoned it in both mine.