I approached him with the now only half-filled glass; Pilot followed me, still excited.

     "What is the matter?" he inquired.

     "Down, Pilot!" I again said. He checked the water on its way to his lips, and seemed to listen: he drank, and put the glass down. "This is you, Mary, is it not?"

     "Mary is in the kitchen," I answered.

     He put out his hand with a quick gesture, but not seeing where I stood, he did not touch me. "Who is this? Who is this?" he demanded, trying, as it seemed, to see with those sightless eyes--unavailing and distressing attempt! "Answer me--speak again!" he ordered, imperiously and aloud.

     "Will you have a little more water, sir? I spilt half of what was in the glass," I said.

     "Who is it? What is it? Who speaks?"

     "Pilot knows me, and John and Mary know I am here. I came only this evening," I answered.