“I have seen you often, sir.”
“Ah—in your visions?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Or, perhaps, Nighthawk described me. You know Mr. Nighthawk!”
“Oh, yes, sir. I hope he is well. He has often been here; he may have told me what you were like, sir, and then I saw you to know you afterward.”
I looked at the speaker attentively. Was she an impostor? It was impossible to think so. There was absolutely no evidence whatever that she was acting a part—rather every thing to forbid the supposition, as she thus readily acquiesced in Mohun’s simple explanation.
For some moments Mohun remained silent. Then he said:—
“Those visions which you have are very strange. Is it possible that you really see things before they come to pass—or are you only amusing yourself, and others, by saying so? I see no especial harm in the matter, if you are jesting; but tell me, for my own satisfaction and that of my friend, if you really see things.”
Amanda smiled with untroubled sweetness.
“I am in earnest, sir,” she said, “and I would not jest with you and Colonel Surry.”