“Ay, that’s it. Much might be done if I could only discover your name. I must make a list of all the names beginning with H. The only question is, would you know your name if you were to see it?”
“I would try,” answered the poor fellow humbly.
“Well, now, I’ll tell you what I have in my mind,” said Mr. Sherman, laying his hand kindly on Holdsworth’s. “I look upon you as a man whom, having brought to life—for I take the credit of your recovery to myself—it is my proper privilege to support. But I shall not allow you to be dependent on charity. I have an office in Sydney, and you shall have a desk in that office, and so earn a salary that will maintain you in comfort. By-and-by your memory will come back. You will then return to England, and I shall heartily wish you God’s blessing, for you have suffered—yes, you have suffered very much—more than I, more than any of us, can conceive.”
He broke off suddenly, his voice faltering.
Holdsworth seized his hand.
“Mr. Sherman ... good, kind friend ... God will reward you ... I have suffered ... I ... I feel it here,” pressing his hand to his head. “Sir, dear sir, believe me grateful!”
“I do believe you grateful, and it pleases me to believe it, for it is a pleasure to serve the grateful. Well, we have settled that. But understand, though you will remain with me as long as you like, yet, at the first prompting of your memory, I shall exhort you to return to England, for I cannot persuade myself that you are not leaving relatives and friends who will mourn you as dead, and suffer unnecessary sorrow on your account.”
“Yes—yes! I think this sometimes!” cried Holdsworth passionately. “That is the haunting thought—but it may not be! Oh, sir, it cannot be! Were there dear ones belonging to me, could my memory forget them? Could they be very dear to me, and be forgotten?”
Mr. Sherman drew a deep breath, and said, “No, I believe that would be impossible. If love united you to any person at your home, that love would be an instinct to prompt you with an influence that should have no reference to memory. But the mind of man is a great mystery.”
There was a short silence, and then Mr. Sherman asked: “Do you ever dream?”