I stretched forth my hand, and to my surprise felt that I was not in a hospital bed, as I had at first believed, but upon a silken couch, with my head resting upon a soft satin pillow. The covering of the couch was of rich brocade in wide stripes, while the woodwork had a smoothness which caused me to believe that it was gilt. I raised my hand to my head, and found it bandaged with a handkerchief and some apparently improvised compresses.
Although I opened my eyes, all was, of course, an utter blank before me. Yet I felt instinctively, as every blind person does, the presence of some one in my immediate vicinity, and presently, after long reflection, I suddenly asked—
“Where am I? What has happened?”
“You have been run over, and your head is injured,” answered a strange harsh voice, hoarse and altogether curious. “But tell me. Your eyes have a curious look in them. Can’t you see?”
“No,” I responded. “Unfortunately I am totally blind.”
“Blind!” gasped the voice, in apparent amazement. “Then that accounts for your accident!”
“But where am I?” I inquired eagerly.
“You need not trouble, I assure you,” answered the voice, pleasantly. “You are with friends.”
“Then I am not in a hospital?”
“Certainly not. Having witnessed your accident, I am trying to do what little I can for you.”