"Forgive an old man speaking to you, sir," he said—"an old man all alone in the world, and with no friends. I saw you come from Dr. Just's house—good, kind Dr. Just!"
I felt my suspicions of him beginning to rise in my mind again, despite the fact that the face he turned to me was that of a simpleton. I recalled Debora's words to me when she had wondered if this man would ever speak.
"What do you want?" I asked him, not ungently.
"I want to find Dr. Just—good, kind Dr. Just," he whispered. "I have followed him a long time, but have been so unfortunate as to miss him. I missed him in a crowd in a street; now I find that he is not at his house."
"You are very devoted to Dr. Just," I observed. "What do you hope to gain by it?"
"To gain?" He stared at me with that curious smile on his face. "What should I gain?"
"I don't know," I answered him, "but it seems to me that you may some day gain what you want."
"God grant I may!" The answer was given in an entirely different voice, and I looked at him in a startled way as I realised at last the truth that for some time at least he had been shamming. I dropped my hand on his shoulder, and spoke sternly enough.
"Come now, let this pretence be ended," I said. "You're as sane as I am—you have all your wits about you. Your brain is clear; you remember everything."
We were in a quiet lane near the house, and there was no one in sight. He clasped his hands, and raised his face—a changed face, stern-set, grim and relentless—to the sky. "Dear God!" he exclaimed passionately, "I do remember! I do remember!"