I listened in astonishment.
“Ah! you know me, too, Amanda!”
“Yes, sir—or I think I do. I think you are Colonel Surry, sir.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have seen you, too, sir?” was the smiling reply.
I sat down, leaned my head upon my hand, and gazed at this incomprehensible being. Was she really a witch? I do not believe in witches, and at once rejected that theory. If not an impostor, then, only one other theory remained—that Nighthawk had described my person to her, in the same manner that he had Mohun’s, and the woman might thus believe that she had seen me, as well as my companion, in her “visions.”
To her last words, however, I made no reply, and Mohun renewed the colloquy, as before.
“Then you are really in earnest, Amanda, and actually see, in vision, what is coming to pass?” he said.
“I think I do, sir.”
“Do you have the visions often?”